Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Mrs. Ferber accepted it cheerfully. “Thank you! How could I mind you giving this to me?”

She took out a gift box from her bag, which contained a diamond bracelet. It wasn’t exceptionally expensive or unique, “This is something I bought while shopping around. It’s not very valuable, just a token of my appreciation. Thanks for the perfume you gave me.”

Rosemary definitely couldn’t accept it. The idea of exchanging a diamond bracelet for a second- hand perfume, worth merely a fraction of the bracelet’s value, seemed preposterous to her. The thought alone filled her with trepidation, fearing she might be overwhelmed by its lavishness!

“Mrs. Ferber, I can’t accept it. That bottle of perfume only cost me three hundred. I can’t let you take such a loss.”

“Rosemary, I’m just trying to make amends for my husband’s behavior earlier today. He was abrupt this morning, he loses his sense of propriety after drinking and didn’t mean to offend you.”

Rosemary raised an eyebrow, but Mrs. Ferber had already shoved the gift box into her hands.

Since it was an apology, Rosemary didn’t push back any further, though part of her wished the lady had just cut her a check instead!

Having accepted the gift, she casually responded, “You and Mr. Ferber must be very close.”

Mrs. Ferber cracked a bitter smile. Probably because they had just exchanged gifts, she began to open up, “We were married due to familial arrangements and barely saw each other before getting married. There were a few options on the table, and I thought he looked honest and upright, but.”

Rosemary could guess the rest from just the first half – another tale as old as time.

Sure enough, Mrs. Ferber’s story confirmed her guess, “Who knew he was just a wolf in sheep’s clothing? The first couple of years were fine, but once the kids came, his true colors showed. Not only did he openly keep a mistress, but he also hardly ever came home.” From NôvelDrama.Org.

Rosemary wasn’t close with Mrs. Ferber, and hearing such personal woes didn’t stir any sympathy in her, just awkwardness.

“Fortunately, he’s generous with me. Whatever he spends on his mistresses, he gives me the same. Over the years, I’ve come to terms with it; we each live our own lives,” Mrs. Ferber said with a meaningful glance at Maxwell, “I really envy you and Mr. Templeton, having such a good relationship.”

Rosemary fell silent, sensing that this wasn’t genuine envy but more like fishing for information.

She managed a small smile, playing her part to the hilt, “Well, Maxwell does spoil me rotten.”

Ew, she almost made herself sick with that line!

After saying that, Rosemary turned and served Maxwell some broccoli, something he never touched.

Maxwell, in the midst of discussing business with Mr. Ferber, noticed her move, glanced at the broccoli, and then at the woman smiling sweetly at him.

His expression remained unchanged, and he calmly ate the vegetable.

Rosemary scoffed internally. Keep up the act, you dog of man!

Mrs. Ferber caught the scene and glanced at her husband with a flicker in her eyes.

Halfway through, Mr. Ferber went to the restroom, and Mrs. Ferber followed.

Once outside, Mrs. Ferber cut to the chase, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning. I’d advise against any funny ideas. Mr. and Mrs. Templeton are close. Don’t end up messing up the deal.”

Mr. Ferber was irritated, “Messing up the deal? That would be the Ferber family’s concern, not yours. What’s it to you?”

He was wealthy and not lacking in female company, with plenty of women throwing themselves at him. Although Rosemary was attractive, he wasn’t foolish enough to offend Maxwell over a woman.

But there was an irresistible itch. Closing his eyes, he recalled the touch of her smooth skin at noon, soft enough to melt in his palm, the mere thought of it sending his blood pumping.

Then, he turned to gaze upon his wife beside him, noting her dull and rough skin, unremarkable appearance, and spiritless demeanor, as unchanging and passionless as a pool of still water.

Mr. Ferber’s tone grew even more displeased, “I told you to test their relationship, not to tell me what to do.”

After a dismissive glance at Mrs. Ferber, he added with disgust, “An old, faded face like that brings nothing but bad luck!”

Throughout the afternoon, Rosemary put on a show of devotion with Maxwell, playing the role of a model couple to perfection.

After that, she had to accompany Mrs. Ferber to admire the flowers, traipsing around the lush fields in high heels for over two hours. It was only after dinner that they finally returned to their respective rooms.

She deliberately lagged behind, using an excuse to avoid sharing an elevator with Mr. Ferber and finally catching a breath.

Leaning against the elevator’s polished mirror-like wall, Rosemary texted Maxwell: Have someone send down my luggage.

By the time she returned to her room, Maxwell had not replied. Had she known he was so unreliable, she would have left her luggage at the front desk.

Her room was a standard double, without private hot spring. After changing into the hotel’s disposable slippers, Rosemary planned to go to a relaxing bath. She’d walked over twenty thousand steps in those heels, and her legs no longer felt like her own.

There was a clothing store downstairs she had noticed when she arrived. Although it didn’t have everything, it met the basics.

Leaving her room, she expected a nice, undisturbed bath. But in the elevator, she unexpectedly ran into Mr. Ferber. Cursing inwardly, she managed to put on a professional smile and greeted, “Mr. Ferber, what a coincidence.”

Mr. Ferber first checked the empty hallway behind her, then his gaze returned to her, and briefly flickered over her disposable slippers, “Mrs. Templeton, you’re not staying in the same room as Mr. Templeton?”

Rosemary lied smoothly, without a change in expression, “I’ve got a friend staying on this floor. I came down to chat with her.”

Mr. Ferber looked at her with an inscrutable expression.

Maxwell’s room was next to his, but he hadn’t seen Rosemary go back with Maxwell, yet here she was in slippers.

Perhaps her relationship with Maxwell was similar to his own; each playing their own game, Rosemary had a room on this floor all to herself.

It seemed this woman was not as favored by Maxwell as it appeared on the surface.

“Mrs. Templeton,” Mr. Ferber stepped forward, his belly almost pressing against Rosemary’s lower back, “are you heading down to soak in the hot spring?”