Fiction Made Me His Wife (Freya and Louis) novel Chapter 298

Chapter 298 Can’t Even Pretend to Smile

Chapter 298 Can’t Even Pretend to Smile

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“I wasn’t here for you, okay? I was just passing by. Hmph.” And with that, the man turned and walked off without another word.

Freya blinked. What on earth had Elmer come here for?

Sensing her curiosity, Baylon leaned over to explain, “That’s Elmer–the most insufferable one in the Quill family. His parents weren’t around growing up, so he turned out kind of… slow. But Andres always looked out for him. Out of respect for Andres’s service to the country, most people don’t bother giving Elmer a hard time. So, Freya, just treat him like a typical rich playboy. Now that he knows who you are, he probably won’t mess with you.”

“He seems to really enjoy messing with you guys, though.”

“Oh, that’s because he’s always wanted to be part of Louis’s circle. But Louis doesn’t like him and won’t give him the time of day. That bugs him. During his edgy teen years, he used to show up just to pick fights with us. Then Louis shut him down once and for all, and he’s been quiet ever since.”

“I see.”

“No need to bother with him,” Louis said, casually putting his phone down.

“What did he mean about Louis-” Kendrick frowned. “I didn’t catch the second half of what he said.”

g to lag.” “If Louis needed something, he’d ask. You think Elmer has the brain to read Louis’s strategy?” Baylon sighed. “Kendrick, maybe cut back on the gaming. Your brain’s sta. “When has Kendrick’s brain ever worked properly?” came a familiar voice–Waylon.

“Ah, I was wondering why Elmer bolted so fast,” Baylon grinned. “Turns out the mouse spotted the cat. Waylon, you sure took your sweet time getting here.”

But then everyone noticed–Waylon didn’t look so great.

Kendrick immediately forgot he was being mocked.

“Waylon, what’s going on? You look like hell.”

“It’s nothing.” Waylon waved a hand, dragging over a chair and sitting next to Louis.

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10:55 Fr, 27 Jun B

Chapter 298 Can’t Even Pretend to Smile

“What’s all this, card tricks?” he asked.

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“Yeah,” Baylon said, throwing a quick glance at Kendrick, “we just found out Freya’s got some serious card–sharp skills. Figured we’d all learn a little.”

Kendrick tried to demo what he’d just learned, but before he could even get through half of it, Waylon was already zoning out.

Then Louis spoke up, voice low, “You’re hurt.”

“No, I’m fine,” Waylon replied reflexively.

But Freya had already turned to look. She noticed the way he raised his arm to fix his hair–it was slow, like he’d twisted something.

Louis didn’t press.

Kendrick looked like he was about to ask more, but Baylon bumped his arm. The words got stuck in his throat.

So everyone pretended nothing was wrong and went back to playing cards. But it was obvious–Waylon was quieter than usual.

Waylon wanted to laugh. He really did.

But he couldn’t.

How could he, when every time he thought about Jasmine, that hollow ache hit him square in the chest?

His thoughts drifted back…

After Jasmine moved in, she was like a ghost–barely a presence in the apartment. One night, Waylon came home utterly exhausted, muttering to himself that he seriously needed to hit the gym more often–his stamina was slipping.

“Back already, Waylon?” The living room lights came on. Mathilda set aside her embroidery.

“Hungry?”

He kicked off his shoes and moonwalked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He popped the cap and dramatically tossed his hair. “Not hungry. Just had a gourmet supper.”

“Say, does this building have any square dancing groups?” Mathilda asked, finally

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