Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 675

When Violet came upstairs and found Scarlett's hair tousled from Clara's playful styling, she spoke up with a hint of sternness. "Clara, is that how you treat your aunt?"

Clara lowered her gaze, her voice tinged with guilt. "Mom, don't you think it looks nice?"

Violet kept her expression firm. "It's not about whether it looks nice. Your aunt's leg is still injured. If you want to practice doing hair, you shouldn't use her as your mannequin."

Tears welled up instantly in Clara's eyes, spilling over before she could wipe them away.

Seeing Clara cry, Scarlett felt a pang in her chest. She drew the girl into a gentle hug and glanced toward Violet. "It's really okay, Violet. I told Clara she could try."

Violet shook her head slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "You indulge her too much. That's why she thinks anything goes."

Scarlett offered a small smile. "She's just a little girl. If we don't spoil her a bit, who will?"

Violet didn't press further, letting out a quiet breath before turning back to Clara. "You're lucky your aunt is so patient with you. But next time, be more careful, alright? We don't want to accidentally hurt her."

Clara nodded earnestly. "Okay, Mom."

"And you have to be extra good to your aunt from now on, deal?"

Clara nodded again, more vigorously this time. "Deal."

Scarlett kept Clara entertained until around half past nine, then asked one of the housestaff to take her upstairs to get ready for bed.

Once Clara had left the room, Scarlett finally reached for her phone to check for notifications.

She'd last looked at it during dinner—almost three hours had passed, and there were still no messages or missed calls from Damian.

To keep herself from constantly watching for his name to light up the screen, she'd even set her phone to silent earlier that evening.

Not only that, she'd placed it across the room, well out of arm's reach, so she wouldn't be tempted to glance at it every few minutes.

Yet after all that time with no word from him, she couldn't help but feel let down anyway.

Holding the phone now, she gave in to the urge and tapped his name to call.

It rang through, but no one picked up.

She tried once more, with the same result.

Finally, she gave up, set the phone down, and slid under the covers.

Lying there in the dim room, she turned restlessly, unable to settle into sleep.

She tried to quiet her mind, to keep it from wandering—but within moments, her thoughts drifted back to Damian again.

It went on like that for what felt like a long while before exhaustion finally pulled her under.

She had only just fallen asleep when the sound of her ringing phone cut through the quiet darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented for a moment before she registered the call.

After waiting so many nights without hearing from him, she didn't allow herself to hope it might be Damian this time. She assumed it was just a routine call.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice still thick with sleep, soft and slightly raspy.

Just as she started to lower the phone, Damian's voice returned, a little firmer now. "Scarlett, wait."

Her heart gave a small squeeze. "Yeah?"

"Leave the line open," he said softly. "I'd like to stay on with you for a while. Just until you fall asleep."

His words sank into her, warm and sudden, settling deep in her chest.

Lying there alone in the wide bed, she could almost hear her own heartbeat picking up pace.

After a long moment, she finally whispered back, "Okay."

Her voice was barely audible, touched with a faint, vulnerable shyness.

So Scarlett laid the phone beside her pillow, resting her cheek close to it.

On Damian's end, he seemed to have muted his microphone—she couldn't hear a thing from his side.

But somehow, just knowing he was there, connected by that quiet line, brought her an unexpected sense of calm. She drifted back to sleep much more easily than before.

When she woke the next morning, she lay still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as the memories from the night before gently surfaced.

Then it struck her, and she quickly reached for her phone.

But as she picked it up, the screen stayed dark—the battery had died sometime in the night, and the phone had shut itself off.

A flicker of frustration passed through her. She wished she'd remembered to plug it in before falling asleep.