Chapter 232: That Wasn’t a Smile

When he was younger and reckless, Paul prided himself on being wild and free. He rarely posted about Yunice on social media—people would have mocked him for being “whipped.” Now, though, he couldn’t find a single picture. As the phone screen dimmed, Paul suddenly saw his own reflection; the faint glint near the corner of his eye caught his attention. Startled, he reached up to touch it—it was a tear.

For days on end, he found himself thinking about Yunice at the most unexpected times; he even nearly got into a car accident because he zoned out. After a few days, he couldn’t take it anymore. He knew deep down he hadn’t let Yunice go, so he went back to the hospital.

Outside the morgue chamber, Yunice’s name had already been replaced with a serial number. Paul stood there for a long time in front of the cold unit. Then, he reached out to open it, wanting to confirm. Is Yunice really gone? His fingers clenched around the door, but he hesitated again.

He dropped his hand and sighed. “Yunice, if you had just listened to me back then, we wouldn’t have broken up; I wouldn’t have fallen for Elsie.”

“I never changed. You’re the one who insisted on going head-to-head with me.” Paul balled his fists, his eyes filled with frustration, but even he could see there was no point in holding onto it anymore. He stayed there for a long while, then finally pulled out a ring box and took out a grass-woven ring. He hung it on the front of the chamber door.

Lowering his gaze, he hid the storm of words in his eyes. Paul turned and walked away decisively. A breeze passed through; the grass ring swayed gently in front of the morgue.

As Paul left, he noticed someone standing by the hallway entrance. The guy had flaming red spiked hair and wore a ridiculous number of clinking accessories—he looked every bit like a spoiled rich kid. Paul had always held himself above others and naturally didn’t give this guy a second glance. He walked right past him like he didn’t exist.

What he didn’t know was that as soon as he left, Morgan turned and walked straight into the morgue. He plucked the grass ring from the chamber door. “P,” Morgan toyed with the ring, curling his lips into a smirk.

That night, Wyatt came to have dinner with Mary. He had one foot on a stool, elbow resting on his knee, staring up at Wyatt with that scheming look in his eyes.

“Wyatt, you’re getting married soon. Why don’t you bring your fiancée over so Grandma can meet her? She’s gonna be the one serving tea and taking care of Grandma from now on.”

Morgan grinned, dripping with malice. Mary held her cutlery, frowning. It wasn’t clear if she was mad at Morgan or Wyatt. Either way, she wasn’t happy.

Wyatt glanced at her, then calmly said, “She doesn’t serve anyone.” Mary’s brow twitched as she looked at him.

Wyatt went on. “Making her pour tea is beneath her. If you need help, there are plenty of nursing agencies to call.”

Morgan dropped his leg from the stool, irritated. “You’re doing this on purpose, huh? We’re talking about a little psycho here! Asking her to take care of Grandma is me being generous!”

Clang! Wyatt flung his spoon without warning. Morgan didn’t dodge in time—it hit him square in the eye. He doubled over, clutching his face. Wyatt grabbed a wet napkin to wipe his hands, giving Morgan a sidelong glance. “Did you grow up eating garbage or something?”

Morgan couldn’t get a word out from the pain, furious and humiliated. “Grandma!” he yelled. Mary’s frown deepened. In the end, she only said, “Don’t call me Grandma. You should really learn some manners from Wyatt.”

Wyatt tossed the napkin aside. “Perfect timing. I’ve got a few free days. I’ll teach you myself.” Morgan froze. Mary said nothing.

The tension thickened—until Elianna walked in. The moment she spotted Wyatt, her eyes lit up like stars. “You’re here too, Wyatt!” She pulled out a chair and plopped down next to Morgan. He was decent to her; didn’t go out of his way to be friendly, but at least he didn’t pick fights.

After setting her purse down, Elianna casually placed a small velvet box on the table. Madam Mary noticed and, in an effort to ease the mood, changed the subject. “New jewelry?”

Chapter 232: That Wasn’t a Smile: Sister-in-law?

Everyone turned to look at her. Elianna quickly clarified, “Yunice! Wyatt told me to call her that.” Mary’s face darkened even more, but she still said nothing.

Morgan, on the other hand, lit up like he’d caught a rat by the tail. He grabbed the jewelry box from in front of Elianna. “Who’d be giving our sister-in-law a gift?”

“Well, look at that—it’s a ring!” Morgan shot Wyatt a mocking glance. “Did you give her this?”

Wyatt lifted his eyes and looked straight at the grass-woven ring.