After hanging up with Sophie, the tangled mess in her head felt a little clearer.
Mrs. Gable knocked on the door to call her for dinner, but she declined, lacking any appetite. She slept for a while, but her body only grew more lethargic.
It wasn't until night had completely fallen that familiar footsteps echoed outside her door.
She knew exactly who it was just by listening.
Randal pushed the door open. He didn't turn on the main light, but a faint, distinct wisp of women's perfume drifted in with him.
In an instant, Willa lost any desire to even greet him.
Perhaps due to the dim lighting, Randal didn't notice her sour mood.
He walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently touched her cheek. "Are you feeling sick? Mrs. Gable said you refused to eat dinner."
Willa turned her head to avoid his touch. Propping herself up against the headboard, she blurted out the question that had been eating at her all afternoon. "Did you go see Scarlett?"
Randal paused, his hand dropping back to his side. His expression remained unreadable. "Yeah. We had some things to discuss."
"What things?" Willa pressed. "Discussing your wedding? And... getting your marriage license?"
Randal's pupils constricted imperceptibly.
He looked at Willa. Her face was perfectly calm, but a fierce little fire burned in her eyes.
He knew then that she had overheard his phone call.
"Willa..." he began, attempting to explain.
"You promised me you wouldn't marry her," she cut him off, stubbornly digging for the truth. "Randal, was that just another lie?"
She regretted the impulsive question the moment it left her lips.
It was just setting herself up for another humiliating blow.
Frustrated, Randal yanked his tie loose. "Scarlett and I... it's not what you think. There are some things... I just can't tell you yet."


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