Chapter 22

His question caught me off guard: "Did anything happen between us?" Did that mean he didn't remember anything? I stood there, frozen. I'd braced myself for his contempt, hatred, even resignation—I'd thought he wouldn't remember the divorce agreement the moment he sobered up. But I never anticipated this.

In the car earlier, Hayden had seemed disoriented. The drug might have caused amnesia, at least temporarily. My silence agitated him. He seized my shoulders, demanding, "Did we?" I stared blankly, his anxious eyes bloodshot and prominent.

"So, you came to ask me about this?" It clicked. No wonder he'd called repeatedly—uncharacteristic of him—and returned to Rosy House.

"What do you think?" Hayden scoffed, implying I was being delusional. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. If I told him what happened, he might not believe me, especially since I'd given him the coffee. He might think it a ploy.

Honestly, it felt better to let it slide, to salvage some dignity. I lowered my gaze. "No."

"No?" Hayden seemed skeptical, staring silently.

"Yes," I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Do you want anything to happen between us?"

His expression darkened, as expected. He couldn't stand me; intimacy would only worsen his dislike. While lost in thought, Hayden asked again, suspiciously, "Really, nothing happened?"

"If something had happened, I'd be tied to you for life. Would I let such a golden opportunity slip away?" I replied with a forced smile. He fell silent. His post-incident memories were hazy. But given the drug's potency, how could he seem perfectly fine if nothing had occurred?

Not wanting him to suspect anything, I shrugged off his hand. "I'm tired. Let's talk about this later."

Hayden frowned, hesitant. I didn't want to guess his thoughts; I just wanted to escape.

Upstairs, after showering and changing into pajamas, I saw a message from Lucy: "How's it going with Dylan!" A smirking bear emoji followed. I sighed, recounting everything.

Lucy replied: "Hayden's been around a lot lately, hasn't he? Is he jealous?"

"No way," I shot back. Hayden might be jealous of anyone, but definitely not me. To him, I was probably someone he wanted to erase.

Lucy giggled. "Why not? You were so sure he couldn't wait to divorce you. But it looks like he just can't let go."

I wanted to correct Lucy—it wasn't that Hayden was unwilling, but that he was considering Xander's feelings—before Hayden walked in.

Lying on the bed, my pajamas open, I was completely exposed. Normally, I was alone, so I hadn't worried. Who would have guessed Hayden would enter like that?

"Why didn't you knock?" I quickly covered myself, my face burning with embarrassment.

Hayden gave me a cold look, implying I was overreacting. "Grandma is here," he stated.

My mind went blank. This late? What was going on?

Hayden's grandmother, Deborah, came from a prominent family and was exceedingly proper. She didn't approve of me, a "wild girl" pursuing her grandson. Family gatherings with the Parkers always felt torturous.

Fortunately, Deborah had developed a love for Christianity and spent much time at church. So why was she here? And why directly here? Something felt wrong.

"Wasn't this your doing?" Hayden snapped, his face darkening.

"I didn't seek her out! I'm scared of Deborah; why would I do that?"

Arguing was pointless, so I got ready and went downstairs. Regardless of our situation, I always respected Parker family elders.

Entering the living room, I felt Deborah's imposing presence. Despite her gray hair, she was impeccably dressed. Even Rita seemed straighter than usual.

I followed Hayden, slowly approaching Deborah before greeting her with a smile. Her scrutinizing gaze made me hold my breath—an automatic reaction. She'd always had something to scold me about.

I had loved Hayden and tried to win Deborah's favor, but to no avail. She often spoke of wanting Parker heirs. Given we hadn't been together for a year, grandchildren were unlikely.

"Hmm," Deborah responded, her eyes landing on two boxes on the coffee table.

The servant said, "These are blessings prepared for you by Mr. Parker, before the Divine Mother. Please place them under your pillows."

I looked at the unfamiliar items. They seemed potent. But Hayden and I didn't even share a room. Was this necessary?

Noticing my hesitation, Deborah asked, "What's wrong? Don't you like them?"

"No," I replied awkwardly, searching for an excuse to decline.

Hayden took the boxes from the servant. "Thank you, Grandma. Yvonne is just a bit shy."

I was surprised he spoke for me, realizing he probably didn't want to upset Deborah; he was quite respectful to his grandparents.

Deborah nodded. "It's late. You should rest. I'll sleep in the guest room."

I held my breath. Was this her plan—to stay and watch us?