Dexter reached out to grab it, but she skillfully dodged, smirking at him. His elongated frame seemed
out of place.
That shirt he wore was worth a fortune.
Dexter’s face looked pallid from his illness, yet he still exuded a captivating aura.
“You are ill. You can’t drink or cat skewers. You can only watch me eat,” Josie said curtly.
“I am not going to eat. Dexter replied, unfazed by her reluctance.
“I’ve made soup.”
“No time for that. You’re leaving in a bit.
Josie pondered and agreed with his statement.
She drank from the soda can, sip by sip. She scowled at the bitter taste, but it left a lingering
sweetness as an aftertaste. Despite the alluring aroma and steam rising from the sizzling skewers,
Dexter refrained from taking a single bite.
He secretly watched as the delicate woman fearlessly devoured the skewers and gulped down beer.
It was a sight he rarely witnessed from Josie.
After getting married, she shed her carefree spirit and embraced the role of a composed and poised
Mrs. Russell.
Amidst the billowing smoke, his gaze lingered on Josie, enraptured by her reveling in newfound joy and
freedom.
A bitter pang surged through him. He fumbled in search of a cigarette, only to realize he had none.
Dexter asked cautiously, “Was what you said true? Will you allow me to assist you in your studio?”
Josie’s face flushed, and replied, “Why don’t you ask me why I was in the mountains?”
Dexter earnestly said, “I was told that you had gone to Rivodia. My team searched for extensively but
couldn’t find you. So, you stayed in Wavery, is that right?”
He had an inkling that Rivodia was a mere diversion.
you there
Though Josie didn’t know how he discovered her presence in Rivodia, she could only imagine his
immense frustration after an exhaustive yet futile search. He would likely have turned Rivodia upside
down in his pursuit.
She smiled and nodded, “I was in the church in Sousturham.”
A sudden realization struck Dexter. He could never have guessed that Josie went there.
“I spent two months there, observing strict vegetarianism and reciting scriptures, mourning our first
child’s loss.”
Dexter’s whole body stiffened; a sour tinge traveled in his nostrils.
Josie sipped her drink and continued, “This child was not meant to stay. So, I won’t blame you for it.
But I can’t forgive myself for giving him such misery.”
Dexter’s sickly pale face grew even paler. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t fit to conceive. Don’t blame yourself.”
His excessive social engagements, accompanied by heavy smoking and drinking, had contributed to
the ectopic pregnancy. He bore some responsibility.
Despite successfully quitting smoking, he found it challenging to maintain sobriety.
“Jo, despite losing our first child, we will have a second, a third child as long as we are together,” he
spoke gently, hoping to alleviate her from self-blame.
“Will we have more children?” Josie’s discomfort was reflected in her strained expression as she
scrutinized. “Dexter, you are a good man, but I fear I am not worthy of being your match.”
Dexter grew unsettled by her words and was about to respond when Josie continued, “In recent times.
I’ve witnessed your triumphant resurgence. You stand confidently in front of the media, seemingly
invincible. But as you stand before me, I ask myself, can we continue?”
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