The Indifferent Ex-Husband: Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate novel Chapter 30

At the most hyped-up local bar, Brandon was chilling in a corner, nursing a drink, and zoning out as he stared into his glass.

Don picked the joint himself, saying it was a rare chance to get Brandon out for a drink, so obviously, he couldn't let Brandon down. But after searching high and low, and being a barfly himself who's not into clubbing, Don was clueless about where to head. Finally, he found this place online, boasting to be a hotspot for both local and international travelers.

Only when they got there did Don realize it was a hunting ground for flirts.

The thumping music in the dance area was blasting his eardrums, and the flashing lights were a pain in the eyes, not to mention the wild dancing scene.

Don had some regrets, but Brandon seemed unfazed.

As soon as he hit the bar, he found a corner, ordered a random bottle of booze, and started sipping away casually, not bothering to check out his surroundings. He was drinking at his own pace, as usual, taking his time, looking all classy and highbrow.

Don couldn't figure out what was going on in Brandon's head.

If you'd say he was having marital issues, he didn't look like the typical down-and-out divorced dude. He still had his poise, and his emotions didn't seem all over the place.

But if you'd think everything's peachy, there was something off about Brandon, a slight deviation from the cool and collected guy Don knew, like his mind was somewhere else.

Don couldn't help but scoot closer to Brandon and almost had to shout over the booming music, "Brandon, spill the beans, man. You and your wife hitting a rough patch?"

But even without the music, Brandon wasn't giving him the time of day, let alone now.

He took a leisurely sip, looked at Don, and asked, "How long you planning to hang around here?"

"Not sure yet," Don shouted back, "Depends on how the job hunting goes. We're hoping to find some long-term stable partnerships, so might take a while."

Then he asked, "What about you?"

Brandon replied, "We'll see."

Don raised an eyebrow, "You too? I thought your life was all plans and schedules, knowing exactly what to do at every moment, never missing a beat."

Brandon said, "Life throws you curveballs sometimes."

"Like what?"

Brandon glanced at the girl approaching them with a drink in hand.

"Now."

Just as the girl was about to drape her arm over his shoulder, Brandon sidestepped, and her arm landed on Don instead.

Don instinctively brushed her hand off, not minding her startled expression, and stood up abruptly, "Brandon!"

But Brandon was already off, not giving him a second glance.

Don hurried after him.

They had to cross the dance floor to get out.

Young guys and gals were jumping to the rhythm of the music.

Don tried to push through the crowd to catch up with Brandon, but every time he got close, the throng pushed him back.

"Brandon, wait up," Don yelled, desperate.

Brandon either didn't hear or didn't care, just kept going.

In a rush, Don shoved through the crowd, accidentally bumping into a girl's shoulder. "What the hell?" came a sharp scolding, and Brandon, who was just plowing ahead, paused and looked back at Don.

Don also looked back and when he recognized the girl's face, he blurted out, "Yolanda?"

Just as Don burst out of the bar, he saw Brandon and waved frantically, "Wait up."

Brandon rolled down the window and replied, "Got something to do, take a cab home."

He tossed a set of keys to Don, rolled up the window, and zoomed off.

Don was speechless.

Sophia had just finished showering and drying her hair, getting ready to hit the lights and call it a night, when a knocking came from the door.

Sophia shot a puzzled glance at the door and flicked off the hairdryer. With hesitation in her step, she walked to the door and called out, "Who's there?"

"It's me," came Brandon's calm voice from the other side.

Sophia's confusion grew as she checked out the clock on the wall. It was already past eleven.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Just open the door," he replied, his tone still cool and even, not loud but with an undertone that brooked no argument.

Sophia furrowed her brows, a bit thrown off, but eventually she stepped forward and opened the door.

There stood Brandon, now donning a slightly more casual long black coat.

His gaze followed the opening door and landed on her face—deep, serene, and inquisitive.

Sophia felt oddly scrutinized and her words stumbled out involuntarily choppy, "What's going on?"

Brandon didn't speak. He just kept looking at her with those deep and tranquil eyes.