When Love Breaks by jack

Chapter 114

He was so worried I’d call the cops again, so he didn’t even bother going to the office anymore. Instead, he set up shop in the study for video conferences. I felt uneasy, zoning out in the backyard the entire afternoon.

The next day came the solemnity of Timothy’s funeral, a gloomy atmosphere enveloping everything. A drizzle fell, sending shivers straight to the soul.

I finally left the confines of the Ferguson Mansion, clinging to Bryant’s side, his grip on me firm as we greeted the mourners like puppets on strings.

His temper had been hot these past few days. It wasn’t so much a change as his true colors showed. I had no room to argue. I tried felling Bryant again the night before that Timothy didn’t demand we stay married on his deathbed and that Timothy only forbade Margaret from marrying into the Ferguson family. But he didn’t believe me and said I was lying. And I was too tired to argue.

As the funeral began, I stood silently to the side in a black wool coat, listening to eulogies summarizing an eighty-year life that seemed to end all too easily.

The man who was laughing with me two days ago was then just a memory under the earth.

“Grandpa!” Margaret appeared from nowhere, her face streaked with tears, kneeling at the gravestone. “Grandpa… Why did you have to leave so suddenly?”

Before Bryant could react, I turned to Gary. “Get her out of here.”

The last person Timothy would’ve wanted to see was Margaret.

After hearing that, Margaret stood up and challenged, “What right do you have to send me away?”

“It’s your call.” I left the decision to Bryant and walked toward Christine and the others. At my words, Margaret immediately softened, clinging to Bryant’s arm. “Bry, I rushed here as soon as I got discharged. I’m freezing!”,

“Your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore?” Bryant coldly pulled his arm away, his expression as still as a deep lake, chilling to the bone.

“No, it stopped hurting…” Margaret’s face froze, and she quickly complained, “I specifically came for Timothy’s funeral. What’s wrong with your ex-wife, telling me to leave?”

Bryant’s voice was icy. “She is Mrs. Ferguson and has every right to decide on matters concerning the Ferguson family.”

Margaret wasn’t convinced. “You guys are getting a divorce, though…”

“Gary.” Bryant gave Gary a look, and Gary immediately directed two security guards to escort Margaret away.

My father-in-law, Albert, exploded, “What are you two doing? I’m still here, and you’re bullying Margaret?”

“Dad!” Margaret broke free and ran to Albert, crying as if wronged. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I pressed my lips together, staying silent, missing Timothy even more. Neither Margaret nor Albert would dare to make such a scene if Timothy were there. I also felt sorry for Timothy. He always treated me so kindly, and yet I couldn’t even ensure he had a peaceful, dignified funeral.

Bryant’s gaze was frosty. “Then leave with her.”

“What did you say?” Both Albert and Margaret were stunned.

Bryant straightened his sleeve that Margaret had messed up, his expression cold. “I said, get lost. Don’t disturb Grandpa’s peace!”

“I’m not leaving,” Margaret used to Bryant’s indulgence, threw a tantrum even in such a setting, pointing at me. “She’s about to be ousted from the Ferguson family. If anyone should leave, it’s her!”

Bryant’s gaze darkened. His voice was resolute “She will always be Mrs. Ferguson, my

wife.”