My Gorgeous Wife is an Ex-Convict!

Chapter 4

Evelyn’s face contorted with rage just as her father’s vicious slap connected with Grace’s face.

“What are you talking about!” her father screamed. “You drove a car into someone else and were locked up in jail because of it. Our entire family was shamed because of you. You don’t have a future anymore. Do you want to ruin your sister’s future as well?” His eyes were full of disgust for her.

“The one thing you did right was dating Sean Stevens and then you destroyed it all. We had so much respect from other businessmen and our relatives from that connection…”

Grace nodded, understanding that her father, Tony Cummins had been embarrassed.

Her relationship with Sean had afforded her dad the chance to claim a higher social ranking. When she fell… he did too. And her father resented her for it.

Her face burned and she knew she’d likely bear a bruise. But her expression remained calm as if she didn’t care at all.

“I originally just wanted to say a prayer for my mother—that was why you invited me back home, wasn’t it?—But now it seems there is no need for me to do it here. I won’t step foot in this house ever again.”

After saying this, Grace walked out of the house without looking back.

This place had never really been her “home,” and she should’ve stopped hoping for it to be a long time ago.

When Grace got to her apartment, the place was dark and the lights were off. When she turned on the lights, she was greeted by cold silence.

She could tell at a glance that there was no one else in the room.

Was Jason gone? Her heart suddenly felt a little empty. Which was silly, she knew. The man was a stranger. He’d helped her out, but he didn’t owe her anything, and she was very foolish to think he’d want to stay with her.

Grace let out a bitter laugh. She was alone. Again.

Something in her chest ached painfully at the thought as if acknowledging that even out of prison, she was still constricted, and destined to live out her existence without anybody.

Just as she was about to close the door, she saw a figure slowly walking towards her. She was stunned.

It was Jason.

his face, making it difficult for people to see him clearly at a glance, but she knew that under that mussed hair was a

for the clothes, she would’ve thought him an actor like her sister might work with on

a man… was he really a

mental illness, violent tendencies? There were a number of causes that could set someone on the streets, and most of them carried elements of instability. She knew that taking him in like this was an impulsive decision and could put her in danger,

tribal animals after all. They

and indifferent, but

“I…

stared at her. “I just went

to one side, pulled him into the room, and closed the door. Then,

her whole body seemed to

wasn’t it? Her family abandoned her, but some homeless stranger was the one to keep her

a candle for my Grandpa and mother. Today

cruel to her. Her beloved grandpa and mother

prayer candle from her bag that she’d bought on the way home along

photo was about sixty years old. His eyes crinkled up in a smile that looked

candles and

the

a job that pays well enough for me to feed myself.

misty. The light of the candle and the light of the lamp in the corner of the room mixed together and caused shadows to dance across her

lips. She was not at all bad-looking, but he’d seen countless women more than

a rare beauty.

to need to say some kind words and to acknowledge her Grandpa’s passing, but fresh out of prison and working in a

person here who’s staying with me,” she said softly. She then turned her head and looked at him. She smiled. Under the light of the candles, she

turned to look at the man in the photo again. “So, I am

and though her lips moved, whatever words she said were between her and

“Alright, I’ll clean up and make some

“Sure,” he responded easily.

but she bid him sit. He washed his hands and set out plates and utensils

while she didn’t hum and there was no sound in the room, there was a rhythm to her motions as if

pot of soup on the table between them and a plate of some egg frittata she’d mixed up with leftovers from the refrigerator, he

It smelled delicious.

the buns he’d brought back and rather than eat them

that. She’d been