Let Me Go, Mr. Hill novel Chapter 262

Let me go, Mr. Hill [by Shallow South] Chapter 262
“Do you think I’ll still believe your words?” Shaun did not bother looking into Catherine’s eyes.

Catherine lowered her eyes in silence. By the look of things, it appeared that there was nothing she could explain further.

She took a pen and signed the papers.

Her heart had never been this heavy when she was signing ‘Catherine Jones’.

“I’m done. I’m going upstairs to pack my things. I’ll leave right after.”

She turned around and headed upstairs. Shaun did not plan to turn his head around. However, he eventually looked back and glanced at her in spite of himself.

She was dressed in pink loungewear, and her hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall. A cedar-like scent lingered in the spot where she just left.

Shaun clenched his fists. The harder he clenched his fists, the less suffocation he felt in his chest.

He originally thought of lecturing her before she signed the papers.

Unexpectedly, she signed them without further hesitation. She probably could not wait to get together with Wesley again.

Hah…

He scoffed sarcastically. Having been through many obstacles, he certainly would not kill himself just because of her departure.

Half an hour later, Catherine dragged her suitcases downstairs. At this moment, no one was in the living room, and the breakfast she made earlier had all ended up in the garbage bin.

She curled her lips. Wiping the tears in the corners of her eyes, she left.

As she watched the villa become further away through the rear-view mirror of the car, she muttered internally, ‘Goodbye, Shaun.’

She used to view this place as her only home and Shaun as her only family member.

Chase sighed. “Fine. If I’d known this earlier, I wouldn’t have invited you to Melbourne. So when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. Get someone to sell this villa.”

After speaking in an apathetic tone, Shaun turned around and entered the house.

Having nowhere to go for the time being, Catherine headed to Freya’s apartment.

After Catherine pressed the doorbell for some time, Freya opened the door. Her hair was unkempt and there was a strong smell of alcohol on her.

“Why did you come with your suitcases?” Puzzled and astonished, Freya looked at the two suitcases beside Catherine’s legs.

“I got a divorce, and I’ve been kicked out of the house. Since I haven’t bought a house, I have nowhere to stay except for your place.” Catherine dragged her suitcases into the house. She flopped onto the couch like a soulless puppet.

“What?” Freya flew into a rage. “Is it because of the photos? As your boyfriend, how could he not believe in you? I’m going to make him pay. He has gone too far…”