The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 507

Fifteen Years Later

Rain drummed steadily against the windows. In Greenvale, the weather always turned rainy and unbearably muggy when spring bled into summer.

Gwyneth sat at her desk, carefully sketching a new design, when a shrill voice suddenly pierced the air above her. She barely had time to look up before scalding tea splashed toward her face. She jerked back just in time, narrowly avoiding a nasty burn.

"Bill Crawford is my boyfriend. We're getting married next month. Do you have no shame, trying to steal him from me?"

Gwyneth met the woman’s rather unremarkable face. She and Bill Crawford had broken up three months ago, and yet here was another one of his so-called “girlfriends” causing a scene.

In the six months she had dated Bill, Gwyneth had been ambushed by his “girlfriends” no less than fifty times, each one different from the last. This one was the most dramatic—already talking about marriage.

Calmly, Gwyneth dabbed away a few stray drops of tea from her sleeve, her expression cool and unruffled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Bill and I broke up ages ago.”

"You're lying. That can't be true. He told me you’re the woman he loves most!"

Pansy clung to her story, tears glinting in the corners of her eyes.

Really?

Gwyneth nearly laughed out loud. The love of his life? If Bill Crawford could even remember her name after three months, she’d eat her hat.

With no other choice, Gwyneth scrolled through her blocked contacts, found his number, and unblocked it for the sake of evidence.

“Gwyn, have you finally come around?” Bill’s voice oozed through the phone, making Gwyneth want to gag.

She shoved the phone into Pansy’s hand. "Here, see for yourself."

“Bill Crawford—” Pansy started, her voice syrupy enough to make Gwyneth nauseous.

“Who is this?” Bill cut in, leaving Pansy momentarily speechless. What followed was a babbling stream of excuses Bill directed at Gwyneth.

She didn’t listen to a single word. With one impatient swipe, she blocked his number again.

She didn’t stay in Starfall City, nor did her doting uncles convince her to remain in Evermore. Instead, she moved to a small southern town and took a job as lead designer at a modest firm.

The climate was pleasant, the scenery beautiful. She liked it here, and decided, for now, to stay.

Call it running away, or refusing to face reality. For over a decade, she hadn’t been able to face her father—or her mother, or Chris and Celia. The twins grew up never knowing their father’s embrace, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible.

If not for her, Chris and Celia would have had a father.

Of course, these were things she would never admit to her mother. She didn’t want her to worry.

As Gwyneth left the office, the gentle rain outside had turned to a steady drizzle.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. She glanced at the screen.

“I know where you are. I’ll find you, Gwyn. I know you love me. Please, stop fighting it, okay?”