Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

The moment Rosemary caught Maxwell's vibe and heard his snarky tone, she knew he was in the know.

Victoria didn't get what she wanted from her in the morning, stormed out for a few minutes, and came back looking a lot less sour. By the afternoon, Maxwell showed up, his every word dripping with disdain.

He was out for revenge on behalf of his sweetheart.

Rosemary had been run ragged all day, puppeteered around to do this and that, and she was beat. Just when she thought she could clock out, she had to deal with this guy nitpicking at her, and her face darkened instantly.

She slammed her phone on the table with a sharp snap. Crossing her arms, she leaned back and cut to the chase, "What's Victoria after? Getting her money back? No chance."

Maxwell's eyes darkened, "I'm here to talk about Rose; let's not drag others into this."

"Others? Victoria called you this morning, didn't she? Did she rat on me? Your whole 'pay with your body for resources' spiel from the moment you arrived, isn't it just to shame me on her behalf?"

"If she snitched, it means you did something behind my back. If you can do it, why can't others talk about it?" Maxwell closed in on her, his presence growing colder, "You’re Rose; why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I tell you? Does your family have antiques that need my restoration skills?"

He let out a half-smile, "You know very well what I mean."

Rosemary suddenly fell silent, memories rushing back, bringing a bitter and wistful feeling. Then, she cracked a smile, "Did you ever ask me? My workshop is right next to your study, never locked, often ajar. With all those tools and broken items, anyone with eyes could see. But for three years, you've turned a blind eye."

Since she decided to divorce, she harbored no resentment. She was done with this man; what was there to resent? Talking about the past now just left some things hard to swallow.

Rosemary watched his tense face, her laugh growing wilder, "You always thought I was just some life assistant earning a pittance, and that I only got the job because your mom spoke up. Do you think so because in your heart, without you, without the Templeton family, I'm just worthless trash?"

Maxwell looked down, the dim light of the diner casting shadows over his eyes and concealing his emotions.

He remained silent to her questions. She didn't know if it was guilt gnawing at him or if he simply couldn't fathom why she was so resentful.

"After leaving the Templeton Group, you had Christ investigate me. He told you I was a janitor at Heritage Revive Studio, and you really believed that. Why didn't you ever consider that a graduate from a top university with a golden stint at the Templeton Group would stoop to cleaning?"

All the discrepancies, being called “Rose” at the studio, restoring antique paintings in front of guests at the birthday party, there were so many things that seemed amiss; anyone giving it a bit of thought would figure it out, but Maxwell remained clueless.

Managing the vast Templeton Group so successfully, his thoughts were unfathomable. So, it could only mean one thing - he didn't care. That was why he could ignore it all so thoroughly.

As the waiter began to serve the meal, Rosemary's appetite had vanished. She grabbed her purse and stood to leave.

Maxwell finally reacted, grabbing her wrist, "Let's eat."

He paused, and then added, "Sorry."

"I can't accept that. If you really feel sorry, just sign the divorce papers, and I'll thank you morning and night."

"I haven't been good enough in the past, but divorce is off the table."

He had the nerve to say he just wasn't good enough? Rosemary rolled her eyes ferociously, "You sure know how to sugarcoat it! If we're not talking divorce, then we have nothing to discuss. Let go."

She yanked her hand away, and in the struggle, accidentally knocked over a wine bottle, drenching Maxwell.

The rich aroma of the wine filled the air. Though Maxwell wore dark clothes, the stain was still evident, his soaked shirt clinging to his skin. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

He wasn't exactly a clean freak, but being sticky like this was uncomfortable. He gritted his teeth, "Rosemary."

She glanced at his stained clothes, without a hint of regret, instead rubbing her reddened hand caused by his grip, "If you keep grabbing me like that, next time I'll splash it right in your face!"

With that, she left without a second glance.

The next few days were back-to-back show recordings, and Rosemary was beat. She finally got a day to rest after it all ended.

But that day, Pearl wanted to go shopping. With Christmas around the corner, there were plenty of goods to buy and gifts for the staff.

Seeing all the stuff Pearl was buying, Rosemary asked curiously, "Didn't Wendy usually handle this? Why are you doing it yourself this year?"

"I've been bored lately, so I needed something to do. I'll get a few things, and she can fill in the gaps."

"Is Norton not traveling next year?"

After handing over the Templeton Group to Maxwell, Norton, bored, started a new company with friends. It was supposed to be a hobby, but it turned out well, with branches opening up, keeping him busy out of town, only coming back for holidays.

But Rosemary had heard he found someone to manage things and cheekily winked at Pearl, "You won't be bored then."

Pearl laughed softly at her tease, "Oh, now you're making fun of me. It seems Maxwell hasn't been trying hard enough."

She stopped midway, remembering the couple was in the midst of a divorce, and her good mood vanished.

But she was afraid of dumping any more mental baggage on Rosemary, so she just played dumb and slapped on a happy face.

"Let go, dammit, let go, or I swear I'll knock you dead!" Suddenly, an angry shout cut through the lively mall atmosphere up ahead.

The two looked up and saw not far off, a woman, as gaunt as they come and plain as day, clinging desperately to a middle-aged man, who was also gingerly holding a pregnant woman in his arms.

Even as a mom-to-be, she was dressed to the nines, wearing gear that could set back an average family for a year.

The haggard woman, with no care for appearances, went off like a fishwife, "Why the hell should I let go? You're my husband, for crying out loud. I hitched my wagon to your broke ass when I was just eighteen, didn’t ask for a thing or a fancy wedding, scrimped and saved for years, buying clothes only once in three years. And now that you've struck it rich, you're keeping a mistress? After all the sweat and toil I put into this family business, why should this hussy get a free ride?!"

With everyone around rubbernecking and gossiping, the man lost his cool, "You've got some nerve! All these years and not even a single kid to show for it. You're forty and the doc says you can't have 'em. You’ve got a wicked heart, wishing our family line to die out!"

"I can't have kids, can't have kids because you've been forcing me to pop birth control pills for years!" The woman lunged like a madwoman toward the pregnant woman the man was shielding, "If I can't have a child, I won't let this tramp have one either!"

But before her hand even grazed the pregnant woman's clothes, she was sent flying by the man's kick. Soon after, mall security rushed in and dragged everyone involved away.

Seeing this, Rosemary took Pearl by the arm, "Pearl, let's go. We’ll check out upstairs."

She stepped forward and realized Pearl wasn't following. Turning back, she saw her quite shaken up. Rosemary frowned, "Pearl, what's wrong?"

"Rosemary, be straight with me. You and Maxwell have been married three years with no baby. Is it him? Is he making you take birth control?"

Hearing “birth control”, Rosemary just froze.