Callie had guessed it; otherwise, she wouldn’t have left the art gallery so smoothly today, with Nelson’s people not daring to stop her.
“Is she dead?” she asked with concern.
Jamir didn’t react immediately and asked what she meant, then replied, “Tsk, no. If she really wanted to die, she would have done it already.”
The car was heading to her place. Seeing Callie silent, Jamir rarely spoke up for Nelson, “If I were him, I might not have a better solution either. The Ellison family is significant; you can’t ignore the pros and cons.”
Yes, so her little issue was nothing in the face of such considerations.
Callie made no comment.
Back home, Jamir came in and looked around disdainfully, “This place is too small. I’ll have someone find you a new one.”
Callie stepped over the sofa and poured him a glass of water, “How long can you stay in Ylosea, Jamir? Where will I live when you leave?”
Jamir stared at her, “Come back to Anbusea with me.”
Callie wasn’t interested and shook her head, “I like living here. It’s small but complete, makes me feel safe.”
This was the attitude of a girl who had suffered. Jamir had seen many socialites in the world of fame and fortune, which made her particularly special to him.
But no matter how he looked at it, he was still dissatisfied. He reluctantly sat down, his eyes filled with affection as he looked at her.
Callie’s eyes were full of fatigue. She looked at him and suddenly said, “Jamir, if the old me had met you, maybe we wouldn’t have broken up.”
Jamir frowned slightly and asked why.
Callie smiled faintly.
Because back then, she wouldn’t have felt inferior. They would have been well-matched and he wouldn’t have despised her background.
She remembered something, “But maybe not. It doesn’t matter.”
If that were the case, she wouldn’t have met Jamir. The most dazzling person in her eyes would still be Nelson.
A couple of days later, the accusations of plagiarism against Charlotte disappeared without a trace. Everyone seemed to tacitly agree not to mention it again. It was clear that someone powerful had suppressed the public opinion.
For Charlotte’s mental health.
She had injured her bones, wrapped in layers of gauze, unable to sleep well unless she saw Nelson by her side.
“Nelson… do you hate me too?” Charlotte said as tears rolled down her face. “Do you think I’m unscrupulous and have embarrassed you all?”
Nelson sat in his chair, legs crossed, his tone unreadable. “Maeve, the worst thing for a girl is to belittle herself.”
At these words, Charlotte’s tears flowed even more, almost choking. “I know, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to make my parents happy and be worthy of being your fiancee. I’m sorry…”
After a night of turmoil, Nelson’s voice was a bit weary. “I’ve taken care of the painting issue for you. From now on, no one will dare to speak out in front of you.”
Charlotte was momentarily surprised and quickly asked, “What about Callie?”
He looked up, his gaze sharp as a blade.
“Can you control her?”
Nelson’s eyes remained calm. “Maeve, this isn’t something for you to worry about.”
Charlotte covered her face and continued crying. “I know it’s her. I know you’re willing to indulge her. But Nelson, what about me?”
They were close, just inches apart. Nelson remained seated without comforting her. “You two are different; you shouldn’t compare.”
After a long while, Charlotte took a deep breath and let go of her hands, her face streaked with tears.
“Nelson, don’t worry. I know my place. But as your fiancee, she should have some boundaries too, right?”