Love You Enough to Leave You

Chapter 91 A Filthy Woman,Love You Enough to Leave You

Oscar suddenly stood up. Apprehensively, Amelia asked, “Mr. Clinton, are you leaving?” Oscar walked over. He leaned over Amelia, almost pinning her onto the bed. The tips of their noses brushed against each other. Enthralled, Amelia had no way of reining in her wildly beating heart. Her eyes darted from side to side, desperately avoiding Oscar’s intent gaze. “What do you feel like eating? I’ll go and get it,” he said. That was the last thing Amelia had expected to hear from Oscar at that moment. “Now that you’re having a baby, you should eat a little more than usual.

Tell me what you’re craving; I’ll buy it for you.” Oscar’s cool tone belied his apparent discomfort. Amelia couldn’t believe her ears. This was Oscar’s first time showing concern for her baby. “Mr. Clinton, are you actually concerned about me?” Amelia asked in disbelief. “Enough of that. Tell me, quickly, what you want to eat,” Oscar insisted. Amelia found the situation hilarious. Oscar seemed a lot more human now in comparison to the guarded, defensive man he usually was. “Since you’ve offered, I can’t possibly say no. All right then. On account of Mr. Clinton’s generosity, I’d like to order a pasta arrabbiata, stewed beef, and mango sorbet to top it all off… I’m spoilt for choice! How can I decide?”

Amelia asked in exaggerated despair. Seeing that Oscar had let her off the hook for the matter with the photographs, the sudden feeling of liberation dared Amelia to joke with Oscar, something she seldom did. Oscar only glared at her. “Amelia, don’t go overboard.” “Don’t be so petty, Mr. Clinton. Can’t you even bear to buy these for me?” Amelia wheedled, pouting. Oscar realized that he rather liked seeing this feminine side of Amelia. “Wait and see; I’ll buy it all for you. Anything else?” he queried. “I want you. Can I have that?” Amelia asked playfully. Oscar’s face once again assumed a sober look. “You’re only allowed to say such things to me in the future. I forbid you from flirting with any other man like that.”

Flirting? Amelia thought she had merely been casually teasing Oscar. She was rather distressed that it had been seen as flirtatious. It seemed that everyone perceived things rather differently indeed. “Since you object, Mr. Clinton, I won’t say things like that anymore,” Amelia said, sulking. Oscar grit his teeth in frustration. “You…” Amelia held her belly and opened her eyes wide, beseeching Oscar in a cutesy tone, “Mr. Clinton, I’m hungry.” “All right, hang on. I’ll go and buy it for you now,” Oscar replied as he headed towards the door. “Mr. Clinton,” Amelia’s cry stopped Oscar in his tracks. Turning around, he asked, “What is it?”

Oscar hesitated for a moment, then handed his phone to Amelia. “The password’s your birthdate.” Surprised, Amelia looked at him. She refused to believe that that was his chosen password. Oscar cleared his throat awkwardly, then said, “There are a couple of games inside. You can take a look if you’re bored. I’ll be off, then.” He turned quickly on his heels and left the room. Amelia was still looking at his phone in shock. She muttered to herself, “Oscar, if you truly didn’t care for me, then why did you use my birthdate as your password? Don’t you know what kind of hope that

to let you go when it’s time for the divorce?” Amelia’s emotions were in complete turmoil. On the one hand, she didn’t want to get a divorce. On the other, Amelia was afraid that they eventually would, and Oscar would take her baby away regardless of what he had promised her. Oscar, I think I’ve really fallen for you. If I could, I would want to depend on you for the

these moments had taken place, let alone presented any opportunities in which Oscar had taken such flattering photographs of her. Amelia’s eyes grew moist. She’d always believed that Oscar liked her solely for her body. If he had absolutely no other feelings for her, however,

was like a carefully curated gallery of art. As Amelia went through each photo, she realized with a start that there were barely ten photos of Cassie. Besides a few snapshots of scenery scattered here and there, the rest of Oscar’s photo album was practically a shrine to Amelia. Amelia felt incredibly perturbed. As she weighed Oscar’s phone in her hand, she mumbled, “Oscar, all the photos you have are of me. Doesn’t that mean that you don’t hate me too much? Why can’t we spend the rest of our lives together, then? Just then, an incoming call jolted Amelia out of

it, Amelia’s heart immediately plummeted. She hesitated for a while, then picked up. Cassie’s excited chatter floated across the line. “Oz, I went for a check-up with your secretary today. The doctor said that the baby’s very healthy.” A note of betrayal crept into her voice. “You promised that you’d come with me, but you’re always so occupied with work! I said that I’d be

she retorted, “Why are you answering my call, Amelia? Where’s Oz?” “He went to buy food for me,” Amelia answered sweetly. “Amelia, you have no shame at all! After your blatant cheating affair at your company, which was even documented in a few photographs, how can you be

a gold-digger, but going for two men at the same time? That’s remarkably greedy, even by your standards.” Amelia grew even paler. Her grip on the blanket tightened. “Ms. Yard, I don’t think it’s your place to comment on the kind of woman I am. Even if I’m cheating on Oscar, it’s up to him to decide if he wants to divorce me. You’re nothing more than an outsider.” Cassie snickered. Keep lying to yourself, Amelia. I’ll be Oz’s wife soon. No matter what, you’re the one who’ll eventually be the outsider here.” Despite herself,

know what Oscar told me this morning? He said that you were filthy and made him sick, and he hasn’t divorced you only because you’re pregnant. He didn’t think you’d be bold enough to have an affair in your condition. Cheating was a real low move from you.” Amelia clenched her jaw. “Ms. Yard, if you have nothing else to say to me, I’ll be hanging up.” Without waiting for a reply, Amelia immediately ended the call. When Oscar returned with a few bags full of food, Amelia was facing away from the door with the blanket over

and reached over to dab the tears from her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” he asked tenderly. Amelia sat up, brushing aside Oscar’s gesture of intimacy. She then asked, “Mr. Clinton, have you bought the food yet? I’m hungry.” Oscar frowned, feeling