Sweet Divorce novel Chapter 220

Rita began to rack her brains to finish her letters ever since she had promised Liam to write the love letters.

But…

One could only confess her ignorance when she suffered from the consequence.

Even when the waste basket was full, she still could not think of any words.

“Rita, are you drawing the design?” Isabelle put a cup of bubble tea in front of Rita when she saw Rita’s face was full of pain. “Have no clue? Why not take a break before you go on?”

Sipping her bubble tea, Rita gave a wry smile. “I wish it could be the design.”

“Then what is it?”

“Love letter.”

Shocked, Isabelle spat the drink on Rita’s face.

Rita’s forehead knotted in a frown.

“Sorry, I’m sorry…” Isabelle took a tissue to wipe away the drink on Rita’s face. “But why are you writing the love letter?”

Rita sighed and told Isabelle what had happened the other day.

Isabelle laughed to tears when she knew what happened.

“My god, your boyfriend is so cut when he feels jealous.”

“He’s a bit cute indeed, but it is really difficult for me to make him happy. I don’t know how to write the love letter.”

She really did not know that.

She was good at painting, not at wording and writing.

However, a slip of the tongue, she not only agreed, but also promised to write a thousand words per letter.

That was ten thousand words in all.

She felt her head ached and rubbed her forehead. “Or, I can search it on the internet and copy.”

“Do you think your boyfriend would receive a copy of the love letter on the internet?”

No.

He would not receive such letters, and she might even make him more irritated.

Forget it. It was a dead end; she should find another way out.

She took a sip of her bubble tea and no longer frowned.

Then Isabelle gave her the papers.

“What is it?”

“The information about Jackson Brook that you asked for a few days ago.”

Rita’s eyes darkened when she heard Jackson’s name.

She had mixed feelings when she looked down at the papers.

She paused for a while and then took the papers.

“I’ve got class, see you later.” Isabelle left to give Rita some privacy.

There was only Rita in the dorm, so she opened the document.

Jackson Brook, 42 years old.

Ex-wife: Rosa Anderson; Wife: Jennifer Marsh.

Address: F City.

Number: 188**** ****

There was some information about Jackson following, but it was just a brief introduction of the Brooks in F City.

Based on the information, the Brook family was also a large family in F City.

After her mother, Rosa Anderson, died three years later, Jackson married another woman and started a family.

Good.

She was relieved now that she had known he lived a good life.

Her lips twitched, then she put the papers into the drawer with her red eyes.

It was still unknown when she would meet her biological father.

She needed to consider the feelings of her adopted parents, Zoe and Noah.

So she had to put it aside now.

Rita calmed herself down and had an inspiration when she looked at the nice writing paper on the desk.

She took up the pen and wrote the letter without a pause.

There were only four words in this one-thousand-word letter –

“I like you.”

“Done, perfect!” Rita was quite contented looking at “I like you” repeated all over the paper.

She put away the letter. Then she drove to Liam’s villa directly after she bought a bunch of lovely roses in the nearby store.

Rita wanted to surprise Liam after he went home from work.

But she found he was at home when she arrived.

“Mrs. Wilson, welcome back. I’m going to tell Mr. Wilson you’ve come home.”

The housemaid was delighted to see Rita, and she turned at once to go to the garden and tell Liam.

But Rita stopped her. The housemaid said, “Mr. Wilson said he’d got some family thing to deal with, so he came back early.”

“Family thing?”

“I don’t know the details.”

Worried, Rita compressed her lips into a thin line. “I see. So will he be interrupted if I come to him now?”

“No, he must be very glad to see you. Go ahead.”

“OK.”

With the roses in her arms, Rita walked across the hall to the greenhouse.

She heard a shrill voice come out when she opened the glass door.

“Mr. Wilson, I was wrong… please let go of me. I’ll never tell your movements to anyone. I’m a first offender. Let me off, please.”