Divorce and Freedom No More Homemaker for Him novel Chapter 225

Chapter 225 Revenge

Laura watched Ayla with worry.

Ayla didn’t look at her. Her face was calm, unreadable.

Troy was impatient. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Laura had no choice but to step away. She didn’t shut the door all the way, though, so she could still listen to what was happening inside.

Troy lowered his gaze.

Ayla remained perfectly calm. Even though she was in his arms, and he could do whatever he wanted, she didn’t flinch. She seemed completely unafraid.

Troy honestly couldn’t read her thoughts. He asked her, “You’re not afraid at all?”

Ayla’s voice stayed cool, and almost dismissive. “What is there to be afraid of?”

She didn’t believe Troy could actually hurt her.

As for anything else, Ayla could make him regret it if she wanted.

“You really are something,” Troy muttered.

He actually admired her courage. Not many people could remain so composed in his arms.

But the timing couldn’t be worse.

If Ayla had been a little more gentle, coaxing him with words, he might have softened. He might not have been so stubborn.

But nothing went the way he expected. Everything had gone off–script, out of control.

Even Troy hadn’t expected to bring Ayla back to the villa.

And now that she is here, then…

They were divorced now. What could he do?

Troy suddenly felt lost. He didn’t know what he was doing.

He could have blamed Draven, saying he didn’t want Ayla to be with him. That would have been a convincing excuse.

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But when Ayla didn’t struggle in his arms and looked completely disgusted…

Troy realized bringing her home had nothing to do with Draven.

He just wanted to see if Ayla would act as she used to–if she could speak to him calmly, without hatred. If she could, he might feel at peace. He might stop feeling restless and out of control.

Troy no longer expected her to comfort him. But she still didn’t behave as he hoped.

He remembered how sensitive Ayla used to be to his mood.

Back then, if he got angry, she only had to say a few words. If he softened even slightly, she would slip into his arms boldly, wrap her hands around his waist, and nuzzle his neck with her forehead. Even if he didn’t want to hold her, she wouldn’t let go.

Troy felt a pang in his chest. His expression darkened. He thought he had forgotten these little details–but he remembered everything clearly.

He hugged her a little tighter, then walked to the couch and set her down.

The instant he did, his chest felt empty.

It was as if someone had cut a small hole in his heart.

The feeling of loss was unpleasant, but there was no reason to keep holding her.

He sat beside her, took the cup from the shopping bag, and carefully removed the protective foam. Inside was a crystal–clear glass cup shaped like a pine tree.

“Don’t touch it,” Ayla said sharply. She had picked this cup as a gift for Draven. And now Troy was holding it. The cup she had liked so much was tainted by the presence of someone she ‘disliked.

Troy clenched the cup, his face dark. “Because it’s for Draven, you’re disgusted that I even touched it?”

Ayla didn’t hesitate. “Exactly!”

Troy ground his teeth. “Do you realize how heartless you are? All those things you used to do for me, were they all just for show?”

Ayla sneered. “Do you want to remember how you treated me back then?”

Troy shot back, “You’re getting revenge on me because I treated you badly before.”

Ayla’s voice was cold. “I want revenge, sure. But I don’t have time to waste on you. If you’re

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gonna pick a fight, don’t expect me to give you a kind face.”

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“You’ve certainly not given me a kind face,” Troy muttered. Ever since the divorce, everything he tried seemed to fail, and he had lost control for no reason.

Then he suddenly smiled, a little darkly. “You’re too kind, you know? You make me want to mess with you.”

Ayla shivered.

She wanted to read his expression, to figure out why he said that. Is it that he isn’t ready to let go? Does he hate Draven? Or does he still have feelings for me?

She honestly couldn’t tell.

Troy stood, still holding the cup. The living room had a beautiful shelf–one Ayla had bought before. He set the cup on it.

“Consider this a gift to me. You’re not allowed to give it to Draven,” Troy ordered.

Ayla spat out, “You’re shameless.”

Troy walked closer. Ayla leaned back on the couch, looking up at him.

Since her divorce, Ayla had always looked at him with cool indifference, so Troy had gotten used to her expression.

“Really? I just took one cup from you,” he said.

Troy was tall. Since she was sitting, his presence loomed over her. It felt pressing, almost suffocating.

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