Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

"Just me."

Zoe Ellsworth said, "I close up late. The shop doesn’t close until eight, so I can’t make it."

Jean Grant held her phone and said pleadingly, "Please, just come keep me company, Zoe. Honestly, if it weren’t for your brother and sister-in-law, we’d be great friends. Can’t you forgive me? Wouldn’t it be nice if we could be like we used to be?"

Zoe Ellsworth was a little moved, but she still said, "I’ll see. If I can close up early, I’ll go."

Jean Grant put down the phone. Lying on the sofa all by herself was just too boring.

Three hours later, Zoe Ellsworth arrived.

"I didn’t think you’d still be here." She closed the door.

Jean Grant sat up. "I have nowhere to go. I was bored at home, and I’m sick of shopping."

Zoe Ellsworth sized her up. "You look well. Your husband should be off work by now, isn’t he with you?"

Jean Grant smiled. "He has a business dinner tonight. You know how it is with men—always discussing important matters."

"That’s true."

"Want a drink?" Jean Grant picked up a bottle.

Zoe Ellsworth waved her hand. "No thanks. I’m pregnant right now, so I can’t drink. It’s not good for the baby."

"Right, of course. I almost forgot."

There was already a considerable distance between the two of them, and their conversation topics lacked any real warmth.

As they talked, Jean Grant ordered a few more bottles, drinking as she spoke.

Seeing how much she was drinking, Zoe Ellsworth tried to stop her. "Don’t drink anymore, you’re about to get drunk. You didn’t call me here just to watch you get wasted, did you?"

"Of course not." Her eyes were hazy. "I was just lonely."

Zoe Ellsworth checked her watch. "It’s getting late. Let me take you home. I have to go home too. My mom will give me an earful if I get back too late."

Jean Grant hiccupped and said okay.

Zoe Ellsworth went to the counter to settle the bill, then helped her out of the KTV. As they reached the reception desk, Jean Grant went up and asked, "Have the guests from Room 2508 left yet?"

"They just checked out and left."

Jean Grant turned and headed for the main entrance. Seeing her stumbling, Zoe Ellsworth went to support her.

As they neared the parking lot, Zoe Ellsworth was about to call for a designated driver to take Jean Grant home, but when they entered, she froze.

In the distance, by a car, a man was pressing a scantily clad woman against the hood and kissing her passionately. Wasn’t that man Nicholas Ainsworth?

If she saw it, then Jean Grant naturally saw it too.

Zoe Ellsworth looked at Jean Grant beside her and heard her mutter, "I knew it..."

She forcefully broke free from Zoe Ellsworth’s grasp and walked forward. Zoe didn’t call out; she just followed behind.

Jean Grant marched up, grabbed Nicholas Ainsworth’s suit, and yanked him aside with all her might.

Then she turned to the woman and gave her two hard slaps across the face.

The woman shoved Jean Grant hard. Because she was already drunk, the push sent her falling naturally to the ground.

Panting, Jean Grant scrambled back to her feet and looked at Nicholas Ainsworth. "What did you tell me before you left?"

Nicholas Ainsworth, seeing Zoe Ellsworth was there, said in a low voice, "Go home."

"I won’t!" Jean Grant yelled. Then she pulled out her phone and started dialing, saying, "I want this bitch dead!"

Seeing this, the woman quickly ran out of the parking lot.

Nicholas Ainsworth snatched Jean Grant’s phone and smashed it on the ground.

"Home!"

Then, he opened the car door, shoved Jean Grant into the seat, got in himself, and drove away.

Zoe Ellsworth walked over, picked up Jean Grant’s phone, and arranged for someone to deliver both the car and the phone to Jean Grant’s residence.

When Zoe Ellsworth drove home, she was startled to find Herman Hawthorne standing at her door, looking left and right.

She got out of the car and looked at him. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"Your shop closed hours ago. Where were you?"

"Do I have to report my whereabouts to you?" She tried to pass him, but he grabbed her.

"Where were you?" he asked again, his tone serious.

Zoe Ellsworth pursed her lips. "Jean Grant called me to a KTV. Then I got to witness someone catching their partner cheating."

Herman Hawthorne finally let go of her hand. "How was it?"

"Fine. I’ve been through that kind of thing so many times, I’m used to it," she answered faintly.

Herman Hawthorne’s face darkened. "When have you been through it so many times? Did you ever catch me cheating?"

Zoe Ellsworth chuckled humorlessly. "Playing innocent doesn’t make you a good boy. It’s like a veteran of a thousand battles pretending to be a virgin."

He followed after her. "I’m not playing innocent, I’m just stating facts. What does ’catching someone cheating’ mean? It means seeing an improper relationship between a man and a woman with your own eyes. I never did that, so of course I don’t admit to it."

Zoe Ellsworth walked quickly. "Is that so?"

"Isn’t it?" Zoe Ellsworth stopped abruptly, turned around, and faced him. "Is that so!"

Herman Hawthorne looked at her and asked again, "Isn’t it?"

Zoe Ellsworth let out a breath. "If that’s how it is, then let’s sort this out. Let’s not even talk about other things. Bianca Rhodes showed me a video of you two being ’in love.’ How is that any better than me catching you in the act? In my eyes, it’s even worse. You told me more than once that there was nothing between you two, but let me ask you: from the moment she appeared until we separated, you were constantly giving her money. And not small amounts, either—millions at a time, sometimes tens of millions. How is that any different from keeping a mistress? As for what other sordid things happened between you, I’m not invisible, so I wouldn’t know. But what I do know is that you never broke things off with her, at least not while we were still married. You dare deny that?"

Herman Hawthorne took a step back. "I admit it, but I was just..."

Zoe Ellsworth took a step forward. "Just what? Pity? Compassion? It was none of those. The truth is you loved her. And if you loved her, not divorcing me to marry her was just hurting all three of us. Instead, you kept me trapped while you loved someone else. Herman Hawthorne, whether you still love her now is something only you know. But if all love can just vanish by saying it’s gone, then it was never love to begin with, don’t you think?"

"After our divorce, I saw things clearly. The one I love now is you. She’s just a memory from the past; it doesn’t mean anything. Zoe, you’ve believed so many other things I’ve said. Why is it that you always refuse to believe those three little words, ’I love you’?"

Zoe Ellsworth replied faintly, "We lived together for years, and you never fell in love with me. Why is it that just a few days after our divorce, you suddenly love me? I don’t get it. Is it one of those ’you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone’ things? I don’t trust your love. I can’t tell which of your words are true and which are lies. If I’m not careful, I’ll get sucked in again. I have to stay rational."

"What will it take for you to believe me?"

"Leave it to time."

She turned, wrapped her coat tighter around herself, and walked toward the living room.

Herman Hawthorne called after her, "Zoe! Do you want some of your favorite pizza?"

Zoe Ellsworth turned back. "You have some?"

He sprinted to his car, grabbed a bag from the window, and sprinted back to her side. "Here."

Zoe Ellsworth took it, shot him a sidelong glance, and said, "It’s not for me. It’s for your little treasure."

Herman Hawthorne grinned. "I get it, I get it. I don’t care who’s eating it, I’ll buy it."

Zoe Ellsworth turned, sniffed the bag, and said, "Smells pretty good. I’ll go to my room and try some. I’ve been eating this so much lately, my waist has gotten a size bigger."

"I’d still want you even if you turned into a pig."

Zoe Ellsworth whipped her head around and pouted at him. "A dog’s mouth can’t spit out ivory. You’re the pig."

Then she quickened her pace and left.

Herman Hawthorne turned, looking back at her every few steps. It wasn’t until he was in his car that he actually laughed out loud.

Nicholas Ainsworth took Jean Grant home. Just as they arrived, the car and phone that Zoe Ellsworth had arranged to be delivered showed up.

He forcibly dragged Jean Grant out of the car.

He dragged her into the living room and threw her on the floor.

Seeing the scene, Mr. Ainsworth stood up and asked, "Was she drinking?"

Nicholas Ainsworth nodded. "Yes. She’s drunk and causing a scene. Let her sleep it off in the living room tonight."

With that, he headed upstairs.

Mr. Ainsworth glanced at his son, then at Jean Grant, but said nothing and returned to his own room.

As soon as he got to his room, he received a call from Sharon Ainsworth, who announced she wouldn’t be coming home that night.

Mr. Ainsworth didn’t pay it much mind; she stayed out all night far too often.

After a while, he went downstairs to check and found Jean Grant still lying on the floor alone.

He went and knocked on his son’s door. "Nicholas, you should put her in her room."

Nicholas Ainsworth opened the door, already changed into a different set of clothes. "Don’t bother with her."

"Where are you going now?"

"I’m going to sleep at the office. I won’t be back tonight."

After saying that, he hurried downstairs.

’My son has a woman on the side. How could his old man not know?’

’Saying he’s going to the office is just an excuse.’

He followed Nicholas Ainsworth downstairs and stood at the door, watching the car quickly exit the Ainsworth family gate.

At that moment, an improper thought crossed Mr. Ainsworth’s mind. But she was, after all, his own daughter-in-law. He didn’t dare to act recklessly.

Closing the front door, Mr. Ainsworth helped Jean Grant up. "Go sleep in your room."

Slowly, he helped her to her room and tossed her onto the bed. The effort left Mr. Ainsworth covered in sweat.

Jean Grant’s eyes fluttered open. She called out, "Father-in-law, what are you doing in my room?"

Mr. Ainsworth said, "You were drunk, sleeping on the living room floor. I helped you back. Are you sober?"

Jean Grant mumbled, her eyes barely able to open. Drowsily, she said, "Still... sober."

Mr. Ainsworth asked again, "Do you want to take a bath?"

"Mhm. Could you run the bathwater for me, Father-in-law?"

Mr. Ainsworth said nothing and went into the bathroom to run the water for her.

Then, Mr. Ainsworth went out and closed the door behind him.

Ever since Jean Grant had the abortion, Mr. Ainsworth hadn’t wanted much to do with her.

But today, he had accidentally seen something he shouldn’t have. Being a man of fifty, it was inevitable that he’d feel a little excited.

He stood at the door to her room, for some reason unwilling to leave. A long time passed. When he didn’t hear any sound of her coming out of the bathroom, Mr. Ainsworth quietly went inside and pushed open the bathroom door.

The scene before him left him stunned.