In My Desperate Time Chapter 567 There’s No Affection between Them

How come so many women in blue dress are here!

What’s worse, some of them are wearing exactly the same clothes as I am.

How embarrassing!

Standing there, I hesitate, wondering if I can step forward and pretend that it’s alright.

Suddenly, a sneer of Hilda came from behind.

“I was wondering how familiar your dress looks. It turns out that it’s just ordinary. If you came to me in
advance, I would definitely grab a decent piece of clothing from my wardrobe to you.”

I turn around and saw Hilda alone.

Frances must be greeting the guests.

Hilda has her nature exposed only when Frances is away.

The nature of jealousy.

Surely, her unfriendliness comes from my past relationship with Frances.

The only reason why I was invited can be nothing but her plot to show off.

It can be imagined that she must be gloating over disgracing me on the nail.

Now that she enjoys herself belittling me, I’ll meet her screwy need.

“I am not rich enough to afford top grade gowns. So, I know I can’t always avoid this embarrassment.
But, I think it’s still better than to kill one’s own husband and take everything for granted without any
guilt.”



Little change can be seen from Hilda’s face.

It seems that she doesn’t even think about how contemptible her behavior was.

“I’m living much better than you, who was swept out like rubbish, out at the elbows.”

With a disdainful glance at me, she walked towards the inside.

Knowing no one else here, I can only grab some food and hide myself at a corner.

Halfway through the meal, all the lights dim down.

An emcee appears, saying something in English, to whom I don’t listen quite carefully.

It’s just some holiday words about how much the couple love each other and some blessings to them.

There’s no affection between them!

I comment in my heart.

It hurts me to see how Frances acts like an affectionate love of Hilda when he doesn’t like her at all.

Venting my anger, I poke through the ice cream in the cup, thinking if only it were Hilda’s face.

But what the emcee says next makes me freeze right away.

“Now, let’s witness the couple kiss.”

Kiss?

I have no intention of seeing this scene.

Nor any other display of their affection.



So that is her purpose of inviting me here.

Frances said he has never done any physically intimate thing with Hilda.

But on this occasion, there’s no way for him to shirk.

Some are whistling.

They’re fanning the flame.

The scene of the pretty couple kissing each other must be glorious.

Everyone wants to see it.

Except me. I would rather be blind than grin and bear it.

But the brutal scene must be on.

With mellow music and soft light, the two become the focus of the audience.

Hilda gazes at Frances with eyes suffused with affection, as if her passion could melt the coldest ice.

She is holding his waist with her head up for his response, while standing on her tiptoe.

Her quivers indicate how nervous she is.

But I feel more anxious than she.

I hold my breath, afraid of losing any single sight of what will happen on the stage.

Then and there, how Frances’ lips tenderly touch hers comes into view.


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