Mrs Hale, I Surrender
Chapter 128 Feeling sorry for him, is the beginning of the downfall

Chapter 128: 128 Feeling sorry for him, is the beginning of the downfall

The surroundings were too quiet...

A burning kiss trailed along her ear.

Her hand was taken and pressed against his lean waist, Zoe Bell only felt a tightness at her throat and her heart pounding so fiercely, it buzzed inside her chest, causing an unbearable swelling in her heart.

Her face was flushed, her body heated,

and that sensation was truly lethal.

It was at this moment that he asked in a hoarse voice,

"Is this okay?"

Zoe was shy, too embarrassed to speak, but she did not pull her hand back either, which counted as a tacit consent.

His voice was husky, his breath like flowing fire, as he turned his head to kiss her.

Their breaths intertwined,

their bodies pressed even tighter, inseparably so.

...

Time seemed to slow to a crawl when Zoe lay in bed, wrapped tightly in the blankets, and heard the sound of water from the bathroom; her face was red.

She had just washed her hands, dried them thoroughly, and even applied some refreshing hand cream.

Yet, the palms still felt hot.

Some sensations, it seemed, could never be shaken off.

Especially when he was close to her ear.

His voice, both low and magnetic, was naturally alluring.

Mixed with suppressed, restrained excitement.

Pressing close to her, calling her name.

A single "Zoe" from him took on a different flavor.

Zoe didn’t know how much time had passed, only that his breathing became more apparent and when his hot breath touched her face, it was like a summer’s blaze, making her sweat completely.

When William Hale came out of the bathroom, he found his wife covering her head with the blanket.

"Is it comfortable to sleep like that?"

"None of your business."

Zoe’s voice carried a bit of resentment.

After all, towards the end, when she felt it was too much and tried to pull her hand away, he held it down firmly.

After William dried his hair, he climbed into bed, pulled her out of the blanket, held her in his arms, kissed her face, and did not go further.

Worried he had truly annoyed her...

The first time could indeed be the last.

"Are you very tired?"

Zoe turned her back to him, not wanting to deal with him at all.

But William tightened his arms around her, refusing to let go.

This also caused Zoe to still feel a soreness in her right hand the next morning when she woke up and washed up.

Thinking about the previous night’s events, Zoe still felt bewildered; after all, William had always seemed unreachable and cold as frost in her mind.

When she opened the door, she saw William sitting in the living room.

Dressed in black clothes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing his watch, he was looking down at the documents in his hands, while Zac Cruz stood by his side, noticing her, "Morning, ma’am."

"Morning," Zoe replied politely.

She glanced at William, still the picture of propriety and seriousness.

She couldn’t possibly connect him with the man from last night.

When their eyes met, Zoe could never remain as composed as he, pretending as if nothing had happened. She was the first to look away, drank some warm water, then went to make coffee.

"I’ll help you," William put down the documents.

"No need, you do your thing."

"Your hand is not convenient."

"..."

That remark made Zoe’s face flush.

She suddenly felt a burning sensation in her right hand again.

She glared at William, her eyes full of reproach:

There are others here, can’t you be more careful about what you say?

But Zoe was merely feeling guilty.

Zac looked at them both, having been with William so long, he was sharp enough to sense something had happened between the boss and his wife.

The atmosphere was odd yet subtly delicate.

But he thought her hand must be hurt from a hamster bite.

He had heard about it when he took William back to the old house the previous day, so he didn’t think in an inappropriate direction.

Yet, his boss was clearly in high spirits.

Even his tone was much lighter than usual.

Zac could only remark:

A man nourished by love is indeed different.

Watching the boss get married and settling into a cozy domestic life, he felt a tinge of envy.

But...

He thought about how hard he had worked.

In the end, it only allowed the boss to lead a happy, ideal life.

While others were getting married and having children, he remained alone.

"Sir, I’ll go handle some work now. Contact me if you need anything," Zac Cruz said, and after greeting Zoe Bell, he headed to the office first.

"You’re not working today?" Zoe looked at him.

"Rest day."

William Hale made her a cup of coffee, and when Zoe took it with both hands, she saw the latte art on the surface, "You know how to do this too?"

"Forced to learn."

"Who could force you?" Zoe was curious.

"My cousin."

Zoe blinked in surprise. It was the person on the phone last time.

She was indeed curious about this cousin of his.

"I’ll take you to visit my uncle and aunt sometime, and introduce you to my cousin. She’s always wanted to meet you," William Hale prepared breakfast for her.

"Okay, you arrange it."

"If you don’t have other plans today, I’d like to take you to meet my mom and grandfather."

Zoe nodded, finished her breakfast, picked a black long skirt from the cabinet, and only after getting into the car did she realize there were two bouquets on the backseat, one of white chrysanthemums and one of Glory Lilies.

The lilies were a slightly orange-red hue.

When visiting the deceased, one rarely used such colored flowers.

It seemed those lilies must have been his mother’s favorite bouquet.

After leaving Yarden, the car went straight to a cemetery in the suburbs.

William Hale’s mood was clearly not good, and he was under a low pressure all over. Zoe remembered looking up information about the Hale family online in the past; there was little mention of his birth mother, only knowing she had died when William was very young.

However, Brandon Stone said her death was mysterious.

Implying that it was Uncle Hale and Aunt Lott who had an affair first, and Lily Lott using extreme methods to ascend, led to his birth mother’s early death. Thus, many said that William did not get along with his stepmother.

It seemed Brandon had heard unreliable rumors.

Because from what she understood, Uncle Hale met Aunt Lott years after William’s mom had passed away.

If his birth mother’s death was related to Aunt Lott, they wouldn’t have been able to coexist peacefully.

About an hour later, they parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. The two carried the flowers and walked for more than ten minutes to reach the gravesite.

On the tombstone, the black and white photo of the woman had a slight smile, demure and gentle.

Looking at the date of death, it seemed to be when William was around three years old.

The inscription read: Beloved Daughter:

Eva Hugh.

Hugh?

William currently lived in Yarden.

The tombstone was erected by William’s maternal grandparents, and it was a case of the older generation outliving the younger.

"Mom, this is Zoe. We’re married now, and I brought her to see you," William Hale said softly, his eyes downcast, placing the Glory Lilies in front of the tomb.

The Glory Lily’s blossoms were uniquely vivid, resembling a blaze, radiating warmly from inside out.

It made the black and white photo on the tombstone appear more lively.

Zoe bowed to her.

Throughout, William Hale was mostly silent, just staring at the photo. After a long time, he finally said, "Mom, I am very happy now."

His brows and eyes were heavy, his demeanor somber.

In that moment,

he no longer seemed stern or harsh, but rather appeared very vulnerable.

Because he said, "I am very happy,"

and not "We are very happy."

It seemed to imply that, at least for him, marrying her was a very happy event.

The phrasing seemed very humble.

Zoe watched him, her heart tightening.

Strangely heartbroken.

The two then visited another grave not far from there, belonging to William’s grandfather. The inscription took up half of the tombstone, with the other half left blank, apparently waiting for his grandmother to be buried alongside him someday.

As they left the cemetery, the chilly autumn wind blew through the pine trees, creating a soft moan.

In the past, Zoe had read many opinions stating that one should never feel pity for a man, claiming that a woman’s misfortune begins with feeling sorry for a man.

Feeling pity for a man is to be unlucky for a lifetime.

Because feeling sorry for him signifies your own downfall.

Walking side by side, Zoe glanced at the person next to her with the corner of her eye...

And reached out,

gently holding his hand.