?Chapter 491:


    He’d discovered that Cassandra Wright was Lauretta’s kin, and building that connection might bring them closer to Lauretta. Lauretta was adored by the Gomez household, and Katie forming ties with her would yield major advantages.


    Katie nodded. “I’ll make sure to impress, Brendon!”


    While tending to Bethel and dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth, Christina overheard their conversation and gave a frosty smile. She excelled at thwarting others’ ns.


    Once Katie exited, the hospital suite held only Brendon, Christina, and the unconscious Bethel. A heavy stillness settled over the room.


    Brendon’s eyes remained fixed on Christina’s back, the way she ignored him making him feel invisible, and that infuriated him. Still, he found himself unable to tear his eyes off her. Even from behind, her figure radiated quiet grace and allure, each motion fluid and poised. How had he gone all this time without realizing even her posture possessed such charm? Maybe he’d never truly looked before—or maybe she’d transformed since they separated. Christina no longer resembled the woman he had once known.


    He observed Christina meticulously tending to Bethel’s arms, and something inside him softened without warning. He took a few steps forward and said quietly, “I was wrong. I used you without knowing the facts.”


    “That’s nothing new. You always jump to conclusions,” Christina answered without lifting her gaze, her tone frostbitten.


    “Must you always be so biting? I’ve already apologized. What more do you want?” he said, his earlier gentleness curdling into anger. Her tone, alwaysced with disdain, never failed to get under his skin.


    “I never asked you to apologize,” she shot back coolly, sparing him only a disinterested nce.


    His chest throbbed, as if gripped by unbearable rage, not unlike the onset of a cardiac arrest. The knowledge that she spoke so warmly to others, but always reserved contempt for him, made him feel like a thorn caught under his skin. Frustration wrapped around him like a vice. Part of him wanted to walk away, but recalling how irrational she’d be since their divorce, he stayed put.


    “Christina…” he murmured, his voice gentler now, reaching out before pausing mid-motion. The memory of the brutal force she applied every time he reached out prompted him to retract his hand swiftly.


    He remarked, “Do you still love me? If my uing engagement celebration with Ynda bothers you deeply, I’ll dy it until you’re okay with epting it.” His voice carried a blend of softness and resignation, but Christina found him repulsive. She felt even more convinced that leaving this scoundrel was the right choice. Had he stood by Yndapletely, she might’ve admired him for taking a stand. But he wavered—always trying to hold on to both her and Ynda.


    Christina didn’t bother answering, returning to cleaning Bethel’s skin without a word.


    But that quiet response made Brendon believe he’d struck a chord. Joy swelled in him, the earlier bitterness evaporating, reced by a smug assurance in his own maism. No doubt about it. Christina still harbored feelings for him—she had once loved him deeply, after all. She often voiced one opinion while hoping he’d decode the opposite. He was sure he had read her perfectly. Smirking, Brendon said, “Since it really bothers you, I’ll hold off on the celebration. That should make you feel better, right?”


    .


    .


    .