Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 120: My Uncle Draws Closer, Inch by Inch

Chapter 120: Chapter 120: My Uncle Draws Closer, Inch by Inch

I turned my face away, my tone as cold as ice: "I don’t want to eat, please leave my house now."

His hand, suspended in mid-air, froze instantly, and the anticipation on his face slowly faded away.

After a few moments of silence, he put down the spoon and spoke forlornly: "I’ve been making this porridge since four in the morning, failed several times before getting it right. Last night, I checked your temperature every hour, worried you might get a fever again. Zoe, what do I have to do for you not to be so indifferent to me?"

I lifted my eyes to look at him, and said, "It’s too late, Timothy Xavier. Everything you’re doing now is too late. What you’ve done to me can’t be compensated with a pot of porridge. You can’t move me, stop wasting your effort."

Just then, the doorbell rang, breaking the tense atmosphere in the living room.

Timothy Xavier frowned and got up to open the door, and I followed him.

I thought he had sent Jack Sullivan again to deliver breakfast.

However, the moment the door opened, I froze, inexplicably feeling awkward and guilty.

Julian Sinclair stood outside the door, holding the hand of Sharon Hawthorne, who was carrying a little backpack.

Seeing Timothy Xavier open the door, Sharon stared wide-eyed in shock and asked, "Doris’ dad? Why are you here? Did you stay at Auntie Ellison’s house last night?"

Julian Sinclair’s gaze passed Timothy Xavier and landed on me.

An unusual expression crossed his always calm face.

But he quickly restrained himself, a faint smile curved at the corners of his mouth: "It seems I’ve come at a bad time."

Timothy Xavier sidestepped and blocked the entrance, his tone clearly provocative: "Uncle Sinclair, you’ve come at just the right time. I’ve just made porridge for my wife, would you like to come in and have some?"

"No need."

Julian Sinclair coldly refused and tugged at Sharon’s hand, "We have things to do, we’ll go now."

After he said that, he turned and walked Sharon to the elevator without any hesitation.

I panicked, instinctively wanting to chase out and explain, but my wrist was suddenly grabbed by Timothy Xavier.

He forcefully pulled me back, slammed the door shut with a "bang," his tone full of sarcasm: "Why such a look? Afraid Julian Sinclair might misunderstand seeing me here? Zoe Ellison, get it clear, we’re still legally married! You’re acting like he caught you in bed with someone!"

"Smack—" The crisp sound of a slap echoed in the living room.

I raised my hand and slapped him, feeling a burning pain in my palm, but the anger in my heart didn’t diminish.

Timothy Xavier’s handsome profile quickly showed a red mark.

He lowered his hand, pushed his tongue against his cheek, and looked at me with a complicated expression, yet his tone carried a hint of sickly indulgence: "Getting addicted to hitting me? But it’s okay, as long as it makes you feel better, you can hit me as much as you like."

"You’re simply unreasonable!"

I was so angry that I was shaking all over, pointed to the door with a trembling voice, "Get out! Leave my house right now! If you don’t go, I’ll call the police!"

Timothy Xavier laughed instead, his laughter full of disdain: "Call the police? Zoe Ellison, have you forgotten? We’re not divorced yet, your house is my house, it’s perfectly natural for a couple to live together. Even if you call the police, they won’t intervene!"

I was so angry, I was lost for words, tears stream down my face, locked in a stalemate with him.

Suddenly, he walked over and pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice husky with suppression: "Zoe, stop crying, I know I was wrong. How about hitting me again, until you feel better."

I pushed him hard, but his strength was so much greater than mine, I couldn’t break free, I could only grit my teeth and say, "Timothy Xavier, let go! You’re only making me feel worse!"

At that moment, Doris weakly called out: "Dad!"

Timothy Xavier then let me go.

Seeing my red eyes, Doris looked at Timothy Xavier with some grievance and said, "Did you bully her? She’s still sick."

Timothy Xavier walked over, patted his daughter’s head, and said, "Dad didn’t bully Mom. But, you now know to care for Mom, Dad is very gratified."

Doris finally sighed in relief and asked, "Then why was she crying?"

Timothy Xavier didn’t know how to answer, so he said, "Dad will take you to wash up first. Are you hungry? Dad finally succeeded in making porridge, I’ll serve you a bowl right away, okay?"

"Okay!"

Doris praised happily: "My dad is the best!"

Then she said to Timothy Xavier: "Dad, I can wash up and dress myself now! You don’t need to help me, I’ll do it myself!"

Timothy Xavier looked at his daughter in surprise, then looked at me and said: "Letting you take care of Doris seems to have been the right decision."

I ignored him, sitting on the couch with my mind filled with the image of Julian Sinclair standing at the door earlier.

Even though there is no question of right or wrong between Julian Sinclair and me, my heart just feels terribly uncomfortable, uncontrollably thinking about it.

Doris had already run to the bathroom to wash up by this time, while Timothy Xavier walked back to me, frowning and said: "Julian Sinclair is that important? You’ve only known him for a few days?"

I laughed mockingly and said: "I’ve known you for twenty years, and so what? Timothy Xavier, did I ever really know you?"

"I know, you want to provoke me, make me leave."

Timothy Xavier’s voice deepened by a few degrees as he spoke each word firmly: "But Zoe, from today on, wherever you are, I’ll be there? I won’t leave! Even Julian Sinclair, can’t interfere in matters between a couple."

Just then, Doris came over with a small box and said: "This crystal is so pretty! Can I try it on?"

I was slightly startled, and then immediately took the box from her.

"Doris, who let you rummage through my drawer?"

My tone was somewhat stern.

Doris paused, and said with some grievance: "I couldn’t find a hair tie, so I thought to see if there was one in the drawer... I just thought the crystal was beautiful, so blue, why are you mad? I won’t take it then, is that okay?"

I was about to put the box away, but Timothy Xavier let Doris into the room.

Then, his gaze turned cold as he stared at me, questioning: "Did Julian Sinclair give it to you?"

"Yes, so what?"

I answered his question openly.

Timothy Xavier gritted his teeth and said: "Do you know, I was at that auction! I knew you liked blue, and I wanted to give it to you. But Julian Sinclair made Jolie Joyce keep raising the bid."

At this, he sneered and said: "I thought he was going to give it to one of his lovers! Unexpectedly, it was for you. Zoe Ellison, such an expensive gift, you dare to accept it. Can you still say, there’s nothing between you two?"

I was a bit shocked in my heart, not expecting that this Blue Tourmaline was bid by Julian Sinclair under such circumstances.

Was it really just to give to me?

"Zoe Ellison, I’m asking you a question!"

Timothy Xavier gripped my shoulders, his tone harsh: "Tell me, how far have you two gotten? Why would he give you something so expensive?"

I looked at him and said calmly, "Just try a little harder, and it’ll catch up with you and Serena Sawyer. If you don’t want to be cuckolded, just hurry up and get a divorce."

Timothy laughed in anger, "Divorce? You’re dreaming! If you have the guts, let him sue me, let him come to me!"

After saying that, he couldn’t stay in my house any longer, went inside to quickly pack Doris’ things, and left with her.

As they were leaving, the little girl looked back at me as if she had something to say.

But Timothy’s face was gloomy, and he dragged her away quickly, she didn’t have time to say anything.

After they left, I composed myself and took out the box behind me.

Looking at the bracelet quietly lying inside, I inexplicably took it out and put it on my wrist, then went out.

I didn’t know why, I just wanted to see Julian Sinclair immediately and explain the situation with Timothy Xavier showing up at my house.

Even though I didn’t know, does it really have any meaning?

...

Fortunately, it had stopped snowing outside, and the snow on the road had lessened a lot. By the time I drove to Julian Sinclair’s house, it had already been an hour.

Actually, I didn’t know if Julian would be home?

I was just hoping for some luck.

Thankfully, he was home.

But his servant came out and said to me, "Sorry, miss, Mr. Sinclair has work to attend to today, no visitors."

I forced a smile and said, "It’s okay, I’ll wait here. I’ll see him whenever he’s finished."

The servant sighed and shook her head, seemingly thinking that I was very oblivious.

After all, Julian Sinclair’s meaning was just short of outright asking guests to leave.

I didn’t know what was going on with me, just stubbornly stood at the door of his villa, not returning to the car.

Although it wasn’t snowing anymore, the thawing weather was especially cold.

Just recovering from a fever, I couldn’t help but wrap my coat tightly, my nose tip turning red from the cold, sneezing several times in a row.

After a long time, I always felt a gaze on me.

When I looked up, I happened to see a tall figure standing quietly by the floor-to-ceiling window of the study on the second floor, it was Julian Sinclair.

Our eyes met, I couldn’t see his expression clearly, only feeling my heart lightly hit by something, a strange stirring.

After a few minutes, Sharon Hawthorne ran out of the house, looked up and asked, "Auntie Ellison, why are you here? It’s so cold outside, why don’t you come in?"

When I followed Sharon inside, I couldn’t help but ask, "Did your Uncle Sinclair ask you to come open the door for me?"

She nodded: "I was just doing my winter vacation homework, Uncle Sinclair suddenly told me you were here and asked me to open the door for you."

I lightly said "oh".

So he deliberately left me in the cold for nearly half an hour.

This man really has quite a temper.

Once inside the living room, the warm air instantly wrapped around me, the snot from the cold nearly ran down my nose, I hurriedly took out a tissue to wipe my nose, looking a bit disheveled.

At this moment, Julian Sinclair came down from the second floor, hands in his suit pants pockets, glanced at me indifferently and lazily: "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your husband and daughter?"

Softening my voice, I blurted out, "I want to eat the meal you cook."

As soon as I said it, I wanted to bite my tongue off, wasn’t I supposed to first explain about Timothy Xavier appearing at my house?

But what on earth was I babbling about now?

Sure enough, Julian’s tone was still without any warmth, coldly saying, "Who do you think you are? Besides, I don’t know how to make plain porridge."

I immediately responded, "Just as well, I don’t like plain porridge either. I didn’t have a single sip of the porridge he made, really."

Julian gave me a sideways glance, with no reaction.

I clenched my fingers, explaining, "I had a fever last night and was so knocked out by the medicine. Timothy was there to pick up Doris, I really didn’t know he’d stay at my house overnight..."

Julian’s expression finally softened a bit, but his tone still carried a hint of rebuke: "Standing outside in the cold with a fever? Was it so hard for you to give me a call?"

I immediately looked up at him, extremely aggrieved: "The servant said you weren’t seeing visitors, I didn’t dare disturb you..."

Julian said nothing more, heading straight to the kitchen.

I hurried to follow, not daring to really let him prepare a meal for me.

I said, "Actually, I was kidding, if you’re busy, just go ahead, I’ll cook."

As I spoke, I deliberately rolled up my sleeve, revealing the Blue Tourmaline bracelet on my wrist.

His gaze fell on the bracelet, his deep eyes darkening slightly, Adam’s apple bobbing gently.

I clearly saw a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

I asked cautiously, "So you’re... not angry anymore, right?"

Julian looked at me, his eyes slightly aggressive: "What position do I have to be angry? Should I be angry?"

As he spoke, he leaned a few inches closer to me, nearly pinning me between the fridge and his chest.

The warm breath brushed against my cheek, carrying a faint scent of aftershave, my heart suddenly lost control, fingertips subconsciously curling in.

Seeing him getting closer and closer, I nervously shut my eyes tightly, even my breath became lighter.