After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 93: Who Is Really Pretending?

Connor Quinn’s way of playing the victim wasn’t the blatant, in-your-face kind.

His was a subtle approach, seeping in without a sound.

But that was precisely the kind that made you feel the most guilty and upset.

In the time that followed, Moira Sloan experienced things like this, big and small, no less than ten times.

Finally, on one dark and stormy night, Moira Sloan couldn’t take it anymore and exploded.

The last straw was Jean Hale.

Jean Hale lectured her sternly, "Moira, you don’t have to like that boy, Quinn, but you really don’t need to make things difficult for him and embarrass him at every turn."

’No!!’

’When had she ever made things difficult for him?’

’And when had she ever embarrassed him?!’

At the hospital, Moira Sloan was afraid of upsetting Jean Hale, so she didn’t dare to argue back.

After leaving the hospital, she sat in Connor Quinn’s passenger seat, holding her handbag. A faint, humorless smile touched her red lips. "Connor Quinn, are you setting a trap for me on purpose?"

Connor Quinn remained expressionless and answered with a non-sequitur, "What do you want to eat for dinner?"

Moira Sloan said, "We need to talk."

Connor Quinn’s voice was low. "Talk about what?"

Moira Sloan turned her head to look at him, her red lips curving into a smile that held no mirth. "Connor Quinn, can you stop pretending?"

Faced with Moira Sloan’s slight mockery, Connor Quinn turned the steering wheel without a word.

Moira Sloan had actually been thinking a lot lately.

On certain matters, she really had been a tiny, tiny bit unfair to Connor Quinn.

But matters of the heart should be mutual, and there was really no need for things to get this messy.

Most importantly, she was really suffering inside.

Even Shauna Duane had been hinting at her for the past two days, saying, "Moira Sloan, if you like Connor Quinn too, you don’t have to worry about me. I think you two are actually a pretty good match."

’A good match?’

’The two of them?’

In her entire life, she’d never once imagined she’d be a good match for a man like Connor Quinn.

When it came down to it, wasn’t it because Connor Quinn acted so unwaveringly devoted to her in front of everyone that it now seemed like she was wronging him if she didn’t respond in kind?

When Moira Sloan finished speaking, Connor Quinn didn’t answer immediately.

After about half a minute, he finally said coolly, "Let’s talk about it at home."

A little over ten minutes later, the car reached their apartment complex.

Connor Quinn parked the car while Moira Sloan stood outside, helping him check the position.

Once he’d parked and gotten out, she naturally handed him her bag, then lifted her chin with a spoiled air, turned, and strode ahead on her high heels.

A moment later, the two of them took the elevator upstairs.

The moment she walked in the door, Moira Sloan kicked off her high heels and her expression soured. "Connor Quinn, haven’t you been going a bit too far lately?"

Connor Quinn bent over to change his shoes, leaving her with a view of his back. "How have I gone too far?"

Moira Sloan’s eyes fell on his neat buzz cut as she said with a taut expression, "You avoid me at every turn at home and at the shop, but then you’re so attentive at the hospital, helping me take care of my grandmother. What are other people supposed to think?"

Connor Quinn didn’t say a word.

Moira Sloan continued, "Your actions make people think I’m a total bitch, enjoying all the conveniences you provide for me while deliberately stringing you along."

Having changed into his slippers, Connor Quinn stood up. Still silent, he walked straight to the kitchen.

Moira Sloan was speechless.

’What did it feel like to punch a wad of cotton?’

Moira Sloan was now getting a deep appreciation for the feeling.

’Honestly, it was infuriating.’

Watching Connor Quinn’s back, Moira Sloan followed right behind him. Too lazy to even put on slippers, her fair, delicate toes padded across the wooden floor as she took a few steps to the kitchen doorway.

"Connor Quinn, we’re both adults. We should be able to part on good terms. There’s really no need to be so clingy and messy."

"Besides, I never once said I wanted to date you."

"Also, I’ve always been the type to seem warm on the outside but be cold on the inside. Don’t think that..."

Moira Sloan was mid-sentence when Connor Quinn glanced back at her bare feet, turned, came out of the kitchen, and swept her up into his arms, setting her down on the dining table.

Moira Sloan: "..."

Midsummer wasn’t over yet, and Moira Sloan was still wearing a long dress.

Connor Quinn was tall. Standing in front of her, he looked down at her. "Are you finished?"

Ever since the last time, the two of them hadn’t done anything intimate.

Now, after more than ten days, this sudden proximity made Moira Sloan’s heart inexplicably tighten.

But Moira Sloan was the type to always maintain a strong front. She tilted her head back slightly, her expression full of scorn. "I said so much. Did you understand any of it?"

Gazing at Moira Sloan’s alluring and provocative face, Connor Quinn’s eyes darkened. The next second, he leaned forward, planting his hands on the dining table on either side of her, trapping her in his embrace. He moved close to her ear and said in a low, deep voice, "Moira Sloan, you say I’m pretending, but what about you? Do you really not know what I think about every night, sleeping in the room next to yours?"

Moira Sloan: "!!"