Classic Novel
Chapter 62
She finished speaking and just walked away, a brisk breeze following her departure. Her slender figure swayed in the cool air, her back resolute and unbending.
It was the second time Yvan had watched Matilda leave, and with each turn, he felt she was drifting further away from him…
The blond man remained, chuckling to himself before asking Keaton, “Did they get a divorce or something?”
Keaton rolled his eyes, “Can we not? They split up five years ago, dude.”
“What’s she been up to since then?”
After a long pause, Keaton replied, “Did time. But I don’t run in her circles much, not clear on the details.” All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.
Keaton blinked, then smiled. “So, she’s got a past like mine, huh?”
His smile carried an inscrutable depth, making his friend frown. “Cut it out; don’t even think about hitting on Matilda. We may not be close, but even as an outsider, it doesn’t sit well with me. Besides, I don’t believe Matilda’s that kind of person.”
In this world, there will always be men who admire a woman unconditionally, untainted by murky romantic feelings, simply a form of respect expressed from one peer to another.
After all, not all interactions between men and women are tainted like the sordid streets of the red-light district.
He said, “Actually… during those five years Matilda was locked up, a fair few people worked to clear her name.”
If Matilda had lingered a moment longer and heard this, tears would have surely fallen on the spot.
You see, most people aren’t so obtuse. They come from esteemed backgrounds, and their most prized possession is their unyielding integrity. A woman like Matilda, with eyes so defiant, how could she commit murder?
So, when they heard about Matilda’s imprisonment, many in their circle used their connections, discreetly or otherwise, to help out. Some asked questions and offered support; others simply wanted the full story, to watch the video evidence and find. discrepancies for Matilda.
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Some of them Matilda didn’t even know. According to Keaton, some were from neighboring cities, men and women alike.
They had admired Matilda’s work, knew of her character, or trusted in her integrity, and thus they wanted to lend a hand.
But in the end, none could match the clout of a single Yvan.
The world of the wealthy isn’t as sordid as people think, not just a perpetual scene of debauchery and dominating CEOS from trashy novels. They have their loyalties, and due to their upbringing and education, they often possess more patience and manners than the average person.
Regarding Matilda, they maintained a sense of sympathy and awe. Even Yvan’s close friends wanted to help this forlorn woman.
“Yvan’s woman; For her to catch Yvan’s eye, she must be something special,” the blond man mused, staring at the spot where Matilda’s silhouette had vanished. He said, “Hey, Keaton… do me a favor and check out what Matilda’s doing for work these days?”
The answer he received was, “Sorry, I’m not a CEO. I’m just a doctor.”
The blond man gave an exasperated eye roll, “Fine, I’ll dig it up myself.”
Driving home took Matilda an hour, even though it was only a twenty–minute trip. She looped around, wandering the city’s twists and turns for a full hour before finally arriving home.
Home felt too lonely, and she was reluctant to return.
Now, she finally understood why people flock to bars at night seeking the thrill of alcohol or the rush of nightlife – because the loneliness was crushing. In her entire house, she was alone, every word and action echoing into nothingness.