Chapter 1237:
“I saw it with my own eyes!” she snapped, her voice sharp with usation. “You’re nning to remarry her, aren’t you? You even picked a hotel, and bought her a vi! And what about me? Were you just going to forget I exist?”
Her voice broke, and she dropped onto the floor, wailing dramatically. “How unlucky am I, to raise a son who forgets his mother the moment he’s happy again!”
Marc’s jaw tightened. The neighbors would hear soon—these walls carried every sound.
“Mom, please,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “Don’t cry, alright? I haven’t forgotten you. Things are just…plicated right now. Once Stel and I are married, I’ll take you with me. I promise.”
But Jazlyn didn’t stop. She kept crying louder, as if she hadn’t heard a word.
With a long sigh, Marc reached into his pocket and pulled out a bank card. “There’s two hundred thousand dors in here,” he said quietly. “I made it recently through my studio. Use this for now, okay?”
The crying stopped. Just like that.
She’d been scraping by for months—surviving on cheap noodles and herbal teas. To someone who hadn’t touched real money in ages, two hundred thousand dors felt like a miracle.
As she finally calmed down, Marc breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
“Why did Ste agree to remarry you?” Jazlyn asked suddenly, suspicion fading into curiosity.
Marc hesitated, then told her everything—how Ste had lost her memories, how things between them had shifted, how she no longer looked at him with the same pain in her eyes. With each word, Jazlyn’s excitement grew.
“So,” she said, her voice rising with delight, “she’s forgotten every horrible thing you did to her, and now she’s falling for you all over again?”
Marc nodded quietly. “Something like that.”
Overjoyed, Jazlyn nearly pped her hands. “That’s great! With William gone, and her still liking you, you can partner with her to start a newpany. I believe in your ability to build something far better than the Walsh Group!”
Her enthusiasm should’ve pleased him. After all, it echoed the thoughts he’d buried deep inside. But hearing his mother spell it out so crudely made his stomach twist.
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“Mom,” he said, his tone low but firm, “this time, I want to do things right. I won’t hurt Ste again.”
Jazlyn just waved a hand, dismissive and cold. “Fine. Do whatever you want after you’ve secured your future. Once yourpany’s on its feet, you can handle her however you please.”
Something in Marc’s expression hardened. He stood, unwilling to argue further. “You’ll have to put up with this ce for a while longer. Once Stel and I get married, I’ll move you somewhere better.”
At that, Jazlyn’s mood brightened again. The card in her pocket felt heavy and reassuring, and the promise offort—of getting her old life back—was almost close enough to touch.
She eagerly agreed.
She could wait—the wedding wasn’t far off.
As he moved toward the door, Jazlyn called him back, rummaging through a drawer as if she’d remembered something small and private.
“I found it buried under a pile of clothes while cleaning. I meant to throw it away but forgot. Since you’re here, you take it.”
She handed him an old photograph—him and Ste years ago, younger and smiling like they owned the future.
Holding it, Marc felt a tangle of nostalgia, guilt, and something quieter he couldn’t name.
He slipped the photo into his pocket and paused at the threshold, looking back once at the tired apartment before stepping out into the street.
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Message from Noah: Happy weekend dear ones. Gods loves you, and Noah wishes you all the best. (?? ? ??)?
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