Chapter 206 She Was a Scapegoat
Wesley leaned forward slowly over the white tablecloth, his voice dropping to a soft, inquisitive whisper.
"Veyra," he said, fixing his gaze on her. "How did you even know that Dorian had someone special he liked?"
𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺
Veyra took a slow breath, gathering her thoughts before answering.
"He told me," she said plainly, looking right back at him. "He told me directly."
Wesley’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "He actually told you himself?"
"Yes," she nodded. "He said he already had someone he cared about in his life. He made it very clear, mostly to put an end to any silly hopes or ideas I might have harbored."
Wesley studied her face closely, trying to read her expression.
"And did you think you had any hopes?" he asked.
"No," Veyra shook her head firmly. "I am very self-aware. I would never build up unrealistic expectations about Dorian just because of his wealth, his family name, or his appearance."
She paused for a brief second.
"I know who I am. I know where I came from. I know my exact place in his life."
Wesley remained completely quiet, listening intently.
"He is the head of the powerful Thorne family. He is a billionaire and one of the most prominent men in the entire country," she said, giving a small shrug. "Meanwhile, I am just a high school dropout. A former waitress. Just an ordinary woman who happened to get pregnant by accident."
She met his steady gaze without flinching.
"I am certainly not foolish enough to dream that a man like that would ever fall in love with me."
Wesley leaned back against his chair, his expression turning thoughtful.
"Then why on earth do you suppose he felt the need to warn you like that?"
Veyra hesitated, biting her lip slightly.
"I think he simply misunderstood me."
"Misunderstood you in what way?"
"He mistook my usual polite, friendly gestures toward him as signs of romantic interest," she explained.
She paused, swirling the juice in her glass.
"I was just trying to be nice. I was just trying to show my appreciation for everything. But he took it all the wrong way."
Wesley tilted his head to the side, looking curious.
"Did you do things that might have led him to misunderstand your intentions?"
Veyra nodded slowly, looking a bit sheepish.
"Yes, I suppose I did."
She looked down at her hands resting on the table.
"I made him bubble tea with my own hands and I also made him special essential oils for his stress. I put effort into all of that because I wanted to thank him for looking out for me so I had to return the gloves he gave me."
She sighed softly.
"But he definitely did not see it that way at all."
Wesley’s voice stayed quiet and gentle. "What actually happened between you two?"
Veyra took in another breath.
"Well, I made that milk tea and gave him to use," she explained. "And he just took it and threw it right into the trash can."
Wesley blinked in disbelief. "He actually threw it away?"
"Yes, he did."
"What about the essential oil?"
"He threw that away too," she murmured. "I happened to find it sitting right at the bottom of the trash can a week later."
Wesley was silent for a moment, absorbing the story.
"So that is why you decided to return his leather gloves," he realized.
"Well, I did," she said. "I left them right on the sofa. I wanted us to be even."
"Even?"
"He threw away the gifts I made for him. So I returned his gift," she shrugged. "It only seemed fair."
Wesley suddenly burst out laughing.
It was a warm, genuine laugh full of surprise and amusement.
"You actually returned his expensive gloves just because he threw away your milk tea?"
"Yes, I did."
"That is..." He shook his head with a wide smile. "That is honestly kind of amazing."
Veyra frowned a little. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean you were completely right to do it. He tossed your gifts away, so you tossed his back. It balances things out."
He smiled warmly at her across the table.
"For what it is worth, I am definitely on your side in this."
Veyra felt a sudden wave of genuine warmth spread through her chest at his words.
"Thank you, Wesley."
"Do not thank me for stating the obvious facts."
He picked up his glass of wine and took a small sip, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"So," he continued. "You really believe Dorian has someone else that he cares about."
"I know he does."
"And you think she is..."
"Ordinary," Veyra finished for him.
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Ordinary?"
"Think about Naya Whitmore. She is the daughter of a prominent councilman from a powerful political family. That is the kind of strategic marriage of convenience the Thorne family would approve of."
She paused, letting the thought sink in.
"But Dorian did not choose Naya. He chose someone else entirely. Someone he actually holds feelings for."
Wesley leaned forward eagerly over the table. "What are you trying to say, Veyra?"
"I think Dorian married me for reasons that go far beyond just the unborn child."
"What other reasons could there be?"
"I think he is using me as a human shield."
Wesley’s expression flickered with surprise. "A shield?"
"Yes, to protect the person he truly loves from his family."
Wesley stayed quiet for a long moment, turning the idea over in his mind.
Then he spoke. "Why on earth would he need a shield like that?"
Veyra took a steadying breath.
"Because the woman he loves does not belong to his high society world. She is not a Whitmore. She does not come from a wealthy, powerful background. She is just an ordinary person. Just like me."
She paused, looking right into his eyes.
"The matriarch would never accept her. The rest of the Thorne family would never accept her either. They would pressure him endlessly to marry someone else who fits their strict standards."
She leaned in slightly.
"So he married me instead. He chose someone they would never approve of, someone they would look down on, and someone who is entirely temporary."
Wesley stared at her for a long time without saying a word.
His face was hard to read, but something flickered deeply behind his eyes.
"Temporary," he repeated quietly.
"Yes. I am the shield. I am the one who takes all the heat from the family. I am the one they disapprove of and criticize at every turn."
She paused, looking down at her empty dessert plate.
"Meanwhile, the woman he actually loves stays completely hidden away from all of it. Protected, safe, and out of reach."
She let out a soft, resigned sigh.
"So I am just a tool to him. A convenient scapegoat. Someone he can use for now and easily discard later when she is no longer needed."