The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate

Chapter 123

Don was feeling seriously crept out, so he quickly explained, “It’s not like I went out of my way to ask about her. I just casually brought it up while we were talking shop. But chill, man, I’ve got Sophia’s back. I wouldn’t just blab about her.”

As he spoke, he whipped out his phone, pulled up his chat with Sylvia, and tapped on a new voice message he had sent. “Oh yeah, what was the name of the hospital where Sophia had her baby last year? I’ve got a buddy who’s expecting and wants to scope out the place.”

Sylvia’s response came back quick, her voice oozing confusion. “When did Sophia ever have a kid? Wasn’t she still in school last year, not even graduated? How could she have had time to have a baby? You sure you’re not talking about Louisa?”

Don shot back a message like a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. “Oh, right, right, Louisa. My bad, my brain’s all scrambled with the hustle and bustle.”

Looking at Brandon, Don said, “See? If she really had been knocked up and popped out a kid, there’s no way it would’ve slipped by us. I think you’re just overthinking it.”

Brandon just stared at him, silent.

He remembered that moment in the restaurant when he had pressed Sophia about whether the child was still around. The hurt that had welled up in her eyes, spiraling into a breakdown.

He didn’t know if it was the topic that had touched a raw nerve or something else.

He knew he shouldn’t have brought it up. Even with his suspicions, it would have been better to verify things behind the scenes rather than rip open old wounds. But when she walked away so decisively, emotion got the better of him.

The question about the child had become a means to force her to pause.

A tactic, and a test.

Logically, Brandon was pretty sure the kid was no longer in the picture.

Sophia wasn’t one for empty gestures.

Once she set her mind to something, she wouldn’t waver.

She never was one to beat around the bush. If she was going to bail, she’d do it clean and sharp.

But emotionally, Brandon had held onto a glimmer of hope, even if it was one in ten thousand.

Don put his arm around Brandon’s shoulder, patting him in a comforting gesture.

“Look on the bright side, no kid might be a blessing in disguise,” Don said. “Otherwise, it’d be like planting a landmine in your future marriage, wouldn’t it?”

Brandon shrugged off his paw. “If you can’t say anything helpful, zip it.”

Don was left speechless.

Brandon bent down, grabbed a bottle off the table, poured himself a full glass, and downed it in one go. He set the glass back on the table.

“Just make sure to close the door on your way out.”

With that, he turned and headed back to his study, closing the door with a “bang.”

Don couldn’t help but shout after the shut door, “Hey, I came over ’cause I figured you’d be in a funk tonight. Came to chat, cheer you up, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

No response.

Don, feeling bored and uninterested, plopped down on a chair. Drinking alone wasn’t much fun without someone to shoot the breeze with.

Boredom got the better of him, and he grabbed his phone, opened Facebook, and there he saw a post from Ivan. [Long time no see!]

The picture was of West District

Airport.

Don remembered Ivan played no, small part in getting Sophia to join the company a year ago. Figuring Ivan could persuade Sophia, he rang him up. “Back in the country?”

“Yep.”

“Fancy a drink?”

“Sure, you pick the spot.”

Don quickly found a nearby bar, sent Ivan the location, and then got up to knock on Brandon’s door.

Brandon opened the study door, looking at him. “Something else?”

“Nope, I’m outta here. Just wanted to share some good news. I think I might have found a way to keep Sophia around,” Don said, patting Brandon’s shoulder. “Wait for my good news.”

Without waiting for a reaction, Don happily made his exit.

Brandon watched his briskly retreating figure. “Don, don’t meddle in my business. I’ve got my own plans.”

“Don’t worry, it’s none of your business,” Don waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Brandon glanced at the closed door and ignored him, closing the study door as he returned to his desk. He saw a WhatsApp notification for a new contact request. The message read. [This is Sophia.] This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Brandon’s gaze froze, his deep eyes calmly fixated on that sentence, unmoved.

Sophia’s WhatsApp name and profile pic were the same as two years ago, unchanged.

He knew it was her.