Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 20

The bedroom was silent for a few seconds, the air thick with the heavy scent of booze.

It finally dawned on Maxwell what Rosemary had just said, as she uttered, "Maxwell, I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"Rosemary!" He ground out her name through clenched teeth, but ultimately, got up to head to the bathroom with a sickly look on his face.

Meanwhile, Rosemary closed her eyes again, out like a light. She slept like a log, only to be woken by the harsh morning light. She stared blankly at the ceiling for a good while before realizing this wasn’t her rental pad.

Her head was splitting something fierce, the aftermath of a wicked hangover. She propped herself up slowly, her gaze sweeping the room - it was obviously a hotel setup.

She looked down, almost instinctively, at her attire. Her clothes from yesterday were gone, replaced at some point by an oversized men's shirt, clearly of an expensive make.

After three years hitched to Maxwell, she knew his scent better than anyone. Even though the room was empty except for her, she was sure the shirt was his.

After freshening up, Rosemary couldn’t find her own clothes anywhere in the room, so she decided to check outside.

She was too plastered last night to remember what went down, but given Maxwell's previous indifference and the way her body felt, he probably just changed her clothes.

Of course, she didn’t think it was out of the goodness of his heart - more likely, he just couldn’t stand her being dirty.

As Rosemary was about to step out of the bedroom, she heard Archer's voice from the living room, "Martin’s throwing a welcome-back bash at Rosewood Villa tonight, you in?"

Rosemary pulled her foot back in. She hadn’t expected company, and there she was in just Maxwell’s shirt barely reaching mid-thigh with nothing underneath.

She was about to close the door again, her hand barely touching the knob, when Maxwell's gaze snapped to her. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his shirt on her.

Archer, noticing the change in Maxwell's demeanor, glanced over curiously. Maxwell stepped forward, effectively blocking Archer's view, "Got it, you can head out now."

In that brief moment, Rosemary had shut the door.

Sensing something was up, Archer took the hint, grunted an acknowledgment, and left the suite. Back in the bedroom, Rosemary wrapped her nearly naked body in the duvet. Half a minute later, Maxwell walked in to see her bundled up like a cocoon on the bed. He let out a mocking scoff, "Now you decide to be modest?"

Rosemary knew what he meant, and that he was digging at the past. She shot back without missing a beat, "Everyone's got to be brainless now and then."

Back when they were newlyweds, Maxwell had never shown an interest in her. Even sharing a bed, there’d always been a mile-wide gap between them. Then he'd been caught on camera heading to Faloria; no explanation given, but Rosemary knew he was off to see Victoria.

Victoria's dance troupe was touring in Faloria at the time. Stung by the revelation, and wanting to cling to their marriage, she’d impulsively stripped in front of him upon his return.

It had been over two years, but she could still vividly remember the mix of mockery and contempt on his face as he said, "Rosemary, I have no interest in women who throw themselves at me. If you’re so desperate for a man, I could send a few your way."

She didn't want to dwell on these humiliating memories. If she could go back to that day, she’d kick him out of bed the moment she caught a whiff of perfume on him.

"Where are my clothes?"

Maxwell looked down at her and after a brief silence, answered a different question, "Tonight, you're coming with me to Rosewood Villa."

Rosewood Villa was Martin's place, and Rosemary frowned, "I’m not going."

She hadn't been aware of Martin's return or his party, and certainly hadn't been invited. Of course, her refusal wasn't just about avoiding an old flame. She also didn't want to get tangled up with Maxwell again, especially considering his closeness to Martin.