The President's Accidental Wife

Chapter 153

She leaned forward and hugged Sherman with sympathy. Patting her back, she said, "Tell me, what d o

you want to do?"

"I don't know..." Sherman gripped her collar tightly with both hands, in front of where it hurt the most, as

though being stabbed. "I want to forgive... but there’s a n obstacle in my heart..."

That scene would surface in her memory from time to time, and no matter how hard she tried, she

wasn’t able to erase it.

"Listen, this is different. I can help you decide on other things, but for this, you do what makes your

heart feel good and comfortable."

Summer's voice was slow and solemn, but they were words from the bottom of her heart.

"Hmph, what makes you feel good? Cut off his d*ck. That would be the best feeling!" Grace gritted her

teeth as she uttered coldly.

"Can we speak with reason? If not, just shut up, okay?" She had no idea how to deal with Grace.

Grace waved with her wine glass in her hand. "Alright, alright, alright. I just need to keep quiet, yeah?"

Summer turned and shifted her focus to Sherman. "So,

any idea now?" "Summer... surely you know... I love him very much... I loved him for six years... I don't

want to let go... but if I choose to forgive... I still can't forget what happened..."

To a woman, being cheated on was often a death sentence.

Summer could empathize with her; even if she did forgive Billy, there would still be a gap; and it was

very difficult to mend.

This incident had no doubt become a scar in their hearts; if reminded, it would certainly bring back pain.

Nevertheless, Sherman's love for Billy was a very profound one. That's why it felt so painful, trembling,

and incapable of reason.

"I plan to, forgive... him..."

After a long while, Sherman slowly uttered these words, and it ripped the already painful wound even

further.

Nobody could understand how she felt as she uttered those words; they were heavy, painful, and

suffocating.

Summer had expected her answer; besides comforting, she really didn't know what else she could

have done.

On the other side.

Smoke circled the air, the entire room fuming. It was very irritating.

Entering the room, Mark waved his hands to fan away from the smoke; it was so thick that he had to

squint his eyes.

On the sofa, Billy looked half-dead, holding a cigarette. In front of him were three cigarette trays, all

filled with cigarette buds.

Charlie pinched his nose, obviously notwithstanding the smell. When he saw Mark, he said, "Why didn't

you answer my call?"

Upon hearing that, Mark felt his pockets only to realize that he did not have his phone with him. He had

not touched it since last night.

Moving his eyebrows, he answered deeply, "I don’t have it now, what is it about?"

"As you can see, this half dead pr*ck. Making me choke on all the smoke, suffocating me to death; I

swear I'm never drinking again."

Charlie couldn't tolerate the situation; the amount of smoke he breathed in had already given him

nausea.

"I told you so..." Mark swiftly looked at Billy and deeply spewed out these words, "serves you right..."

In an instant, Billy's look worsened. He kept coughing. His usual suave was nowhere visible. His beard

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