Chapter 342
Dahlia couldn't shake Wesley's words from her mind: "I'm out, I'm free."
In a moment of distraction, she accidentally hit the button on her wheelchair. She was already perched at the top of the stairs, and with that single press, the wheelchair surged forward. Before she knew it, it was too late.
With a startled scream, she and the wheelchair went tumbling down the stairs. Dahlia was thrown from her seat, landing awkwardly on the floor as her phone slipped from her grasp.
On the other end of the call, Wesley heard her scream and immediately asked, his voice tight with worry, "Dahlia, what happened?"
"I'm fine..." she managed to say, though the pain left her pale and her voice barely a whisper. Wesley couldn't hear her.
He started to panic, his tone urgent, "Dahlia, why aren't you saying anything? Are you hurt? Hang tight, I'm coming over right now."
The thought of Wesley rushing over sent Dahlia into a fresh wave of panic. If anyone saw them together in broad daylight, especially if word got back to Charles... She couldn't even bear to think of the fallout if Charles discovered her secret with Wesley.
Desperate, she ignored her disheveled state and scrambled to grab her phone. "Don't come!" she barked, forgetting to mask her irritation and impatience. Wesley was taken aback. "Dahlia?"
It was the first time she'd spoken to him with such a tone. Sensing something was off, he asked, "Have you fallen for Charles?"
Realizing her slip-up, Dahlia didn't scramble to defend herself or try to soothe Wesley. Instead, she turned the tables, her voice rising with anger, "Wesley, is that really what you think of me?"
"Who did I give my first time to, huh? For whom did I have children? For whom have I stayed loyal?"
"Everything I've done has been for you and for Sandy."
"If I wasn't putting on a show for Charles, do you think Sandy would be safe now?"
"If I wasn't trying to give Sandy a better life, would I be stuck in this wheelchair?"
"You think I don't want to just take Sandy and leave Charles? You think I'm not tired of playing this role every day?"
"But if I left, with no money, my disability, and you just out of prison, how would we manage? I could
handle tough times, but what
Sandy? If you can handle it, I'll
out
Charles and break it off right now!"
Her voice wavered with emotion, but her face stayed stony, free of any real hurt.
She knew exactly how to play Wesley.
Her words hit him hard, filling him with guilt. He immediately started apologizing, his heart aching, "Dahlia, it's my fault, don't cry."
"It's all on me, making you go through this. I even doubted you, I'm awful."
A sly smile crept onto Dahlia's lips, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes Wesley adored her, but he loved Sandy even more, his one and only child. To him, Sandy was everything.
But to Dahlia, Sandy was a stain she couldn't clean off. She loathed her for it. If Sandy wasn't useful in keeping Charles interested, Dahlia wouldn't bother with her illness.
She wanted kids of her own, but how many could she possibly have with Charles?
Thinking about it, Dahlia's earlier
panic over Wesley showing up eased. Two years ago, after Wesley had helped her deal with that troublesome Evelyn, his usefulness had run its course. noveldrama
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