She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 86

Hilda lay on the sofa for a long time.

Finally, she lifted her head and looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the night.

The snowflakes were falling heavily.

Just like back then.

The snow fell in a blinding sheet, feeling as though it were crushing down on her. Yet it brought no relief, only intensifying the sweltering heat left by the man. Her voice seemed to melt the snowflakes, sticking warmly to the cold glass before slowly sliding down, much like her tears.

After resting for a long time, Hilda forced herself up and finished organizing the closet.

Once done, she stood by the window, trailing her finger through the condensation.

*The Blue in the Haze*

The letters were delicate and pretty.

She thought of what Luther had said—about moving into a bigger house next year, about having another baby when the time was right.

Hilda thought to herself: *We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.*

Just then, Luther walked out of the study. His eyes immediately caught the words written on the foggy glass. He looked surprised at first, then slowly walked up behind her. His voice was deep: "You like The Bibliophile too? You follow her online?"

Hilda startled.

She turned around, about to speak, but Luther casually unbuttoned his collar, unusually eager to discuss art with her: "The painting hanging in the study is her work. That quote is from *First Love*. Even though I've never met her in person, I imagine she must be a woman with profound life experience. A truly beautiful soul."

She didn't know why, but Luther was actually sharing this with her.

He hadn't even mentioned this to Jolie.

Hilda looked at him quietly, wanting to say something, but ultimately turned back and gently wiped the words away. Her voice was slightly raspy: "Maybe she is! But perhaps the person she loves doesn't love her back. In fact, maybe he even resents her."

Luther frowned slightly.

How could that be?

He immediately rejected the idea in his head.

—How could a woman as talented as The Bibliophile be resented by her husband?

Hilda was probably just being overly sensitive.

She was still holding a grudge about him abandoning her in the villa all those years ago.

Right now, Luther was willing to coax her a bit.

After all, their sex life was highly compatible.

And Annie was adorable.

Putting love aside, this kind of marriage was actually quite fulfilling. Luther wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands sliding down to firmly grip her slender waist. He brought up the past himself: "Are you still mad about what happened? I know you suffered a lot. I'll make it up to you from now on."

"Honestly, if you pay attention, Mr. Sanford and his wife look really good together. Body language doesn't lie. Mr. Sanford must be highly physically attracted to her; he kept leaning into her lower body. If he didn't like her, he would instinctively avoid contact. Mrs. Sanford, on the other hand, looked so calm and unbothered. I'm actually really impressed by her. I used to think she was just some ordinary woman, but clearly, there's more to her. Crazy, right? She actually managed to completely fend off Ms. Lovell. I always thought Mr. Sanford was so deeply in love with Ms. Lovell, but I guess it was just a fleeting novelty. Did you know? Ms. Lovell is Mrs. Sanford's biological sister, an affair baby."

"That explains it."

"Men are practical. No matter how much he dotes on a woman, she'll never be more important than his own flesh and blood. No matter how much Mr. Sanford 'loves' her, he has to consider his family's feelings, right? Besides, Mrs. Sanford is much prettier than Ms. Lovell. Sure, she's not some corporate shark, but Mr. Sanford doesn't need a shark. He needs someone to manage the household and maintain a good relationship with his parents... His parents absolutely despise Ms. Lovell right now. If she thinks she's marrying into that family, she's dreaming."

"Good. I never liked her anyway."

"She had no business acting like she belonged with him."

"Trying to steal her own sister's husband."

"No wonder. The daughter of a homewrecker grows up to be a homewrecker. It's a family tradition."

"Keep it down, the walls have ears."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Ms. Lovell's time is up anyway."

...

The women gossiped eagerly.

Jolie stood frozen inside a bathroom stall, her face so dark it looked like a storm cloud. Those words stabbed into her heart like knives. She had plotted and planned for so long, and this was the outcome? She had done all the hard work just to hand Hilda the crown.