“Has Elisa returned?” Hamish inquired Mr. Clegg as soon as he arrived back at the villa.
“She has already returned. Right now, she should be sleeping in her room,” Mr. Clegg replied.
She seemed quite at ease, being able to sleep at a time like this.
Hamish’s brows furrowed deeply. He squinted, his face turning ashen, the muscles on his face pulsating as he forcefully suppressed long-held emotions.
Hamish cast a cold glance upstairs and headed directly towards the bedroom without changing his shoes. His footsteps echoed crisply and urgently on the floor, vaguely reflecting the suppressed emotions he held.
Mr. Clegg was somewhat uneasy and said to Mrs. Rugger and the others, “You all stay downstairs; I will go upstairs to have a look.”
Mrs. Rugger, with a worried expression, remarked, “Mr. Burns doesn’t look too good. I hope they don’t start quarreling.”
Mrs. Protich reassured, “It shouldn’t happen. After all, Mr. Burns loves his wife so much.”
Emotions are never absolute; once suspicion arises, it creates a barrier.
Mr. Clegg shook his head and quietly followed upstairs.
Hamish arrived at the bedroom door and pushed it open without hesitation. The room was eerily quiet at this moment; not a single sound could be heard. He walked in and looked at the woman sleeping on the bed.
“Elisa,” Hamish murmured. His voice was not loud, but in such a quiet environment, it was exceptionally clear, even the low pitch of the ending sound.
Under the influence of medication, Elisa was soundly asleep, not even raising an eyelid.
It had to be said that she looked very obedient in her sleep, making it difficult for one to disturb her. Yet, when Hamish saw the cake on the bedside table, his just-soothed eyes were suddenly engulfed in a blazing fire.
He looked at the label on the cake box and then at Elisa’s familiar sleeping face. The images on his phone came to mind, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
He abruptly swung his hand, smashing the cake onto the ground. The cake flew out, the matcha cream splattering particularly conspicuously on the dark carpet.
Elisa was instantly startled awake, opening her sleepy eyes, looking at Hamish in confusion and panic.
“Hamish…” She began, but before she could complete a full sentence, her wrist was forcefully grabbed by Hamish.
It hurt.
In an instant, she was wide awake, the part of her wrist gripped by Hamish turning pale under his strong grasp, as if he intended to crush her wrist bone. Elisa had to follow his force to prop herself up.
Hamish sternly shouted, “Why did you lie to me?”
Elisa’s body instinctively trembled. Her head felt dizzy, and although she was awake, she felt as if she was still in a terrible dream, finding this furious version of Hamish before her to be utterly unfamiliar.
Clearly, he had fallen asleep holding her just last night, yet today, he was glaring at her with anger.
She couldn’t understand what terrible thing she had done to make him so angry.
Elisa couldn’t help but recall the things Finn had said to her at the Western restaurant.
If Hamish truly loved her, he would trust and respect her.
She didn’t want to continue being like a delicate flower, relying on him solely to survive.
Elisa took a deep breath, looking up at the dark eyes of Hamish. “What did I lie to you about?”
Her throat was dry from just waking up, her voice hoarse and low, as if being squeezed out of her windpipe.
Hamish, observing Elisa’s seemingly indifferent appearance, felt as though something within him was being ignited. He flung away Elisa’s hand, took the broken phone, and smashed it against her, hitting her finger directly.
Elisa winced in pain, gritting her teeth, her fingertip trembling, a thin layer of cold sweat breaking out on her back, whether from the pain or fear.
“Is this what you call going to the movies alone and having dinner alone?” Hamish sneered. “Take a good look for yourself.”
Elisa’s face turned slightly pale. It took her a while to pick up the phone, and as she turned on the shattered screen, she quickly came across the photos inside.
There were pictures of Finn sleeping on her shoulder, the two of them dining at a couple’s table, and even a photo tagged on Facebook.
The photos were all of the two of them, taken from various angles, appearing intimate, yet nothing untoward had occurred.
She furrowed her brows, not knowing who had taken these photos, but she couldn’t shake off the connection to Finn.
“I did go to the movies alone. When it was almost over, he fell asleep and leaned on my shoulder. I couldn’t move him.”
“So you just let him continue leaning on you?”
“I already said I couldn’t move him. It wasn’t intentional for him to lean on me. I didn’t even know him. I don’t understand why you’re so angry!”
Hamish ignored her pale face and sneered, “You didn’t know him, yet you went to a couple’s restaurant and ordered a couple’s set menu with him?”