Chapter 4
Leroy noticed my gaze and let out a soft chuckle.
“It seems that, rather than concerning yourself with me, Ms. Ruiz is more interested in my crippled legs.”
Hearing his cold voice, I suddenly realized how rude I had been and quickly apologized.
“Sorry, Mr. Corbyn, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
Leroy didn’t respond, but he continued to smile at me from the corner of his eye.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something strange about the way he looked at me. It wasn’t the gaze one might have
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for their nephew’s wife–it was more like the wistful longing of someone reminiscing about a lost love.
Had we met before?
Before I could delve deeper into the thought, Leroy spoke first.
“I asked Ms. Ruiz to come today because I’m in need of a wife.”
I froze in shock, my eyes widening.
Could it be?! Was Leroy implying…?
I tentatively looked at him.
“Mr. Corbyn, do you mean…?”
Leroy seemed surprised by my slow comprehension.
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He sighed.
“Jeremy doesn’t deserve you.”
His eyes shone brightly as they met mine.
“Which means, the person who sent me that message was you, Mr. Corbyn.”
I stared at him, stunned.
He met my gaze with the same intensity.
“Yes, Robbie, I like you.”
Upon hearing those words, I stood there, frozen in place.
Because of those words, I had heard them once before, a year ago.
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At that time, my mother had just passed away–not even a week had gone by before my father couldn’t wait to remarry.
I was sent to study abroad in France, abandoned by my family.
During that long and dark time, the only thing that kept me going was a pen pal.
He said he was my fan, someone who loved a novel I had written.
Even though we were miles apart, even though we had never crossed paths, he was the only one who truly saw through to the depths of me in this vast, untouchable world.
We exchanged countless letters, and our feelings grew deeper and deeper.
Until, before I returned to my home country,
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he said:
“Robbie, I like you. When you come back, let’s be together.”
But when I returned, I could never reach him again.
All I knew was that his last name was Corbyn.
And the man my father arranged for me to marry also had the last name Corbyn.
At first, I didn’t want to accept such an arrangement.
But when Jeremy came to see me that day, he was holding a copy of After the Flowers Bloom, the very book I had written.
I asked him why, and he smiled at me.
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“Oh, I’ve been a fan of this book for a long time. I’ve always liked the author’s work.”
The same hobby, the same last name, Corbyn.
That’s why I believed Jeremy was the one who truly understood my heart.
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And so, I agreed to the arranged marriage.
But after we married, I tried many times to bring up our past, but he would always act like he didn’t understand or didn’t care at all.
Once, when I couldn’t help myself and mentioned a letter we had exchanged, Jeremy erupted in anger.
“Roberta, are you crazy? How many times do I have to tell you I never wrote you a letter?
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You must have a delusion or something!”
After that, I never dared to bring it up again.
It made me so sad for a long time.
I had thought… those memories meant so much to me alone.
But what did Leroy’s words mean just now?
Could it be… that I had mistaken the person?
I looked at him, unable to believe what was happening.
afara
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