Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Rosemary, with her mouth full of toothpaste suds, looked over at Yolanda, who didn't keep her in suspense and just laid it out straight, "It was from Maxwell."

But Maxwell wasn't trying to keep it hush-hush, which was why she could dig it up so easily. Still, it really proved that the guy was a real piece of work. While most couples were tight as thieves, presenting a united front, he was busy funding the very people his wife couldn’t stand.

Rosemary was clueless about the whole thing, "How much did he give?"

Yolanda held out her hand and flashed a number that was out of this world, "Without this cash, Stacey wouldn’t just be dreaming about buying into Starlight Group; she’d be pinching pennies just to have a decent meal." NôvelDrama.Org © content.

Rosemary nodded, "Got it, thanks for the heads-up."

She originally just wanted to get Stacey kicked to the curb by Starlight Group as payback for the time she played her for a fool in the media. Now that Stacey was a stakeholder in Stellar Group, it was time for plan B.

She was determined to make them cough up every penny they made by selling off her mother’s belongings.

Yolanda waved it off, "No biggie, just lending a hand. If you need anything else, just holler."

After Yolanda finished freshening up and dropped her hands, she stood up straight, "Let's grab a bite. I've got things to do later and we're running out of time."

Both not keen on a long walk, they hit up a nearby snack street and found a random restaurant. Rosemary opened the trending searches on her phone, only to find the news about Victoria going to Meadowlark Retreat to see Maxwell had disappeared. Someone had clearly clamped down on it.

And it wasn't hard to guess who was behind that quick cover-up.

For the next three days, Rosemary holed up at home. Yolanda, probably afraid she'd go stir-crazy, lined up quite a few gigs for her. Even when Oswald called asking her to come back to work at Heritage Revive Studio, she blew it off.

That day, as she was sighing over a painting, Wendy's call came through, "Mrs. Rosemary Templeton, could you please come over? Mrs. Pearl Templeton is supposed to go to the hospital for a check-up today, but she's having a spat with Mr. Templeton and refuses to go."

"Is Maxwell there?"

"He’s tied up with work at the company; Christ is here."

These sorts of things were usually Rosemary’s job. Knowing she was about to divorce Maxwell, Wendy really shouldn't have bothered her, but Pearl was mad at Maxwell and wouldn't give him the time of day, dragging Christ into the mess as well.

Rosemary agreed to come over. Pearl was probably ticked off with Maxwell over the divorce mess. She needed to get her on board or at least not against it, to avoid any unnecessary complications.

When Rosemary arrived at the villa, Pearl was on the sofa, fuming, "I said I'm fine, no need for a check-up." She glared at Christ standing in front of her, "The one who really needs the hospital is your boss. Go get him an appointment for an eye and brain specialist, see if he's blind or just plain stupid, ditching a gem for fish eyes in the trash heap without even wrinkling his nose."

Christ felt he might kick the bucket prematurely, stuck between Mrs. Pearl Templeton and Ms. Chambers, each with a sharper tongue than the other!

"And make sure it's with a top-notch doctor; no regular doc can fix his issues."

Wendy thought, “Mrs. Rosemary Templeton must be the real deal, huh?”

She made a mental note to firmly stand by Mrs. Rosemary Templeton's side in the future and not give Victoria the time of day!

She grimaced awkwardly, "Mrs. Pearl Templeton, Mr. Templeton is just worried about your health. The doctor's already scheduled. Maybe you should just go, to get it over with."

Pearl was about to dig in her heels and refuse when she heard Rosemary's voice at the door, "Pearl."

At the sight of Rosemary, her face instantly softened with a warm smile, and her tone gentled, "What brings you back so suddenly?"

Rosemary sat down beside her, "Wendy mentioned you didn't want to go for your check-up. I came to see if that was true."

"You know Wendy, always exaggerating things. I just thought it's too cold and wanted to wait a bit before heading out. I never said I didn’t want to go."

Wendy quickly took the fall, "Right, right, Mrs. Pearl Templeton was just getting ready. Now that Mrs. Rosemary Templeton is here, you might as well go together. That newfangled hospital system is a bit much for us older folks."

Of course, that was just an excuse. Working as a caregiver for the Templeton family, one had to be up to speed with all sorts of skills, including navigating online appointments and payments, and keeping up with the latest tech.

Pearl patted Rosemary's hand, "My last test results are in Maxwell’s study; could you fetch them for me?"

"Sure."

As long as Pearl was willing to go for the check-up, fetching a report from upstairs was no big deal. Rosemary didn't bother to mention that the doctors had all the records and that many of the test results would need to be redone if they were over a week old.

Once Rosemary was in the study, Wendy asked curiously, "Mrs. Pearl Templeton, aren't the reports here?"

Pearl tossed her a brown paper bag, "Put this in the TV cabinet drawer. When she asks, just say you got mixed up."

Scapegoat Wendy.

Seeing her clearly puzzled, Pearl indulged her with an explanation, "That brat has his lips glued shut with super glue, just like a tragic novel's heroine, can't spit out a word to save his life. If I don't send Rosemary to his study to fetch the report, how would she see the photo of her on Maxwell’s desk? I bet my bottom dollar that boy has a thing for Rosemary; why else would he have her picture in his study?”

Pearl pursed her lips, “So coy, I have no idea who he gets it from. His dad was all about playing straight, not a hint of beating around the bush."

This was Rosemary's first time in Maxwell's study. He hardly stayed there before they got married, and after tying the knot, his visits were even rarer.

The study wasn't huge - just an office desk, some bookshelves, and a sofa were pretty much the whole shebang.

She didn't bother looking around and bee-lined straight for the desk, yanking open drawers in search of the report.

But the report was nowhere to be found. Instead, her eyes landed on something way too familiar.

It was a framed painting, its modest canvas smothered in dark, brooding colors that, on closer inspection, revealed the figure of a woman.

But the figure was shrouded in thick, cold hues, so blurred that, even though it was a frontal view, the face was missing.

Staring at it for too long could creep one out, triggering chills down your spine and an unstoppable wave of sadness. That was the mood of the painting, Rosemary’s mood.

Her slender fingers gently rested on it, as if trying to feel the textured paper through the glass. This was her final project.

The piece that a mystery buyer snatched up for a hefty sum, catapulting her to stardom at Greenwood University, only for her to crash and burn overnight.

When she first heard her teacher say it was sold, she thought it was weird. The painting wasn't exactly easy on the eyes. In fact, when the final piece came out, her teacher was this close to calling her folks, suggesting they get her some shrink time. Plus, as an art student's work, it wasn't exactly primed to skyrocket in value anytime soon.

Rosemary let out a self-deprecating smirk. So why on earth did Maxwell buy such a crummy painting that was totally out of whack with his image?

Meanwhile, downstairs, Pearl, seeing Rosemary hadn't come back for ages, couldn't help frowning and said to Christ, who'd been blending into the wallpaper all day, "Go check on her, will ya? Hope she hasn't gone loopy from excitement or something."