Chapter 33

Clifford didn't come to the bedroom that night. When Latisha woke up the next morning, he was already gone.

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for two hours before finally getting up. She had no appetite, but she made some soup and forced herself to drink two bowls before taking the medication her doctor had prescribed.

Around five in the afternoon, the doorbell rang.

Latisha opened it to find Clifford's assistant, Ziven, standing outside.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Lambert. Mr. Lambert sent me to pick you up," Ziven said with a respectful bow.

Latisha frowned in confusion. Ziven couldn't understand sign language, so she didn't bother trying.

He explained, "Today is your birthday. Mr. Lambert asked that you wear one of the new outfits you bought yesterday."

Latisha was stunned. She had assumed his offer to celebrate her birthday was just another way to placate her. She hadn't thought he actually meant it.

She bit her lip, unmoving.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Lambert? Do you not wish to go?"

Latisha remained silent. He had burned her most precious things just yesterday, and today he was acting as if nothing had happened, ready to take her out to dinner and celebrate. Her feelings meant nothing to him.

Ziven saw her hesitation and sighed. "Mrs. Lambert, regardless of everything else, Mr. Lambert is still your husband. The home you live in is his, and legally, he belongs to you."

Latisha looked up, her eyes wide with surprise.

Ziven continued, "The fact that he is still willing to come home, to celebrate your birthday with you, means he still cares. As long as he cares, there's no reason for you to just hand him over to someone else."

Ziven despised Yesenia. At the

office, she did nothing but order him

around, treating him like her

personal servant. Even department managers showed him a level of respect, but Yesenia emboldened by Cliffords indulgence, looked down on everyone. If she ever became the official Mrs. Lambert, his life would be a living hell.

"Mrs. Lambert, if you still care about him, don't just push him away into someone else's arms. You have to learn to fight for what's yours."

Latisha pressed her lips together. Ziven's words threw her into turmoil.

But she had a child now. She couldn't abandon her baby to chase after a man who didn't love her. And yet, Clifford refused to divorce her. He would find out about the baby eventually, and she might not be able to protect it.

Her mind was a tangled mess. With a heavy heart, she turned and went upstairs to change.

This wasn't about choosing. She had no choice. As long as Clifford held a place in her heart, she could never truly push him away. He was the man she had loved for twenty years, she had

the owo decades, b Owatched growi

a man. For had

been her entire world. She couldn't

lie to her own heart.

The clothes they had bought were for the colder weather. She rummaged through the bags and chose a festive red sweater and white pants, pulling her hair into a high ponytail.

e2

When she came downstairs, Ziven looked at her with a hint of surprise. If it weren't for the deep, settled sadness in her eyes, she could have passed for a teenager. She was the kind of girl whose smile could light up a whole school.

Perhaps Clifford had once seen that smile.

But people never cherish what they get too easily.

Ziven snapped out of his thoughts and gestured for her to follow him.

Latisha nodded. As they walked outside, Ziven noticed the Bentley parked in the driveway and suddenly remembered something. "Oh, one moment, Mrs. Lambert. I need to get a different car."

He pulled out two sets of keys, drove the Bentley back into the garage, and returned with the Porsche.