Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 179

Maxwell snapped his phone shut, not sparing Rosemary another glance, and went straight to his car.

Rosemary was a step behind, and the man was already showing his impatience, “What, do I need to roll out the red carpet and usher you in?”

Though his tone was harsh, it was hard to detect much anger. It sounded more like someone venting their frustrations.

Rosemary smacked herself on the forehead, a loud 'smack' echoing, and the skin turned red instantly – you could tell by the sound she didn't hold back.

It must be the freezing weather numbing her emotional radar, she thought. The idea that Maxwell felt slighted was as believable as ghost stories.

She opened the car door and slid in, eyes drifting to the console between the driver and passenger seat, prompting her to rub her sore neck.

Was that uncomfortable position self-inflicted?

Maxwell noticed her gaze, “If I'd known you were going to be ungrateful, I wouldn't have offered my shoulder.”

“…” Rosemary fell silent for a few seconds, “You mean you were the one who put my head on your shoulder?”

Maxwell’s eyes stayed on the road, his reply indifferent, “Felt sorry for you, your face against the cold glass and all.”

Might as well have lent you my shoulder. Try and tell me which is more pitiful: your face on the glass or leaning over the console against my shoulder.

Rosemary’s instinct was to snap back, but she thought better of it, “Mr. Templeton, if you’ve got the time, I suggest you play the field a bit. Ever wonder why girls know a player's bad news but still go fluttering to the flame?”

Maxwell’s simmering anger bubbled unrestrained, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled, his voice flat, betraying no emotion, “Even if I were with Victoria, you wouldn’t mind.”

Rosemary opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Maxwell’s scoff, “Of course you wouldn’t care. If you did, you wouldn’t have labeled me her boyfriend without a second thought.”

“What?” She doubted they were even in the same universe, let alone the same space. Otherwise, how could she have no recollection of what he was talking about? “I pegged you as Victoria’s boyfriend?”

She and Victoria had been at odds since their school days; she'd be bonkers to assign her a boyfriend.

Not surprised she didn't remember, Maxwell thought. Aside from Martin, she was clueless about everything else, like a total airhead.

Maxwell: “Figure it out yourself.”

“…”

They pulled up to Rosemary’s apartment complex.

The place, mostly home to singles and quiet now during New Year’s, had only a few windows still lit. The usual hustle and bustle were gone, and the shadows cast by the decorative trees across the deserted streets seemed to loom menacingly.

Stepping out of the car, Rosemary heard the 'click' of the seat belt's release, unusually loud in the still night.

She paused, retracting her step, turning to the man in the car, “Maxwell, this is where I get off.”

“He came to me for what?” Rosemary had no memory of this, no matter how hard she tried.

“To see why you and Victoria were at loggerheads, I guess,” Yolanda didn’t recall the specifics either; it had been years, who’d remember such a trivial chat, “Probably to stand up for his girlfriend. Victoria was like a fly stuck on him back then. When he confronted you, you told him to bring it on if he was targeting you for her, even called her a lotus flower dame, and wished them eternal bliss.”

“Heh,” Rosemary gave a dry laugh, “No need to remember it that clearly.”

Even the insults she hurled were etched in Yolanda’s memory.

Yolanda: “What’s with the trip down memory lane? Don’t tell me you regret divorcing Maxwell and are looking for crumbs of kindness to justify turning back?”

“…”

Her mind could conjure a whole soap opera in a heartbeat. Not becoming a melodramatic screenwriter was a waste of talent.

“Babe, don’t make me drill a hole in your head to drain the water out.”

Rosemary: “No, just curious, that’s all.”

"Why bother getting all nosy about some jerk and a sleazy chick dating? If you're really that curious, why don't you hook up with my sorry-ass bro? I'm telling you, his over-the-top devotion is so intense it's practically bringing me to tears, like some kind of male version of Wang Baochuan."

Rosemary just hung up the phone, flat-out refusing to witness Yolanda's over-the-top theatrics.