Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 146 - - waiting for

Cynthia was knocked back a few steps by the snow and mist stirred up by the speeding car, then stood there in a daze. The car, which had sped off wildly, disappeared from her sight in the blink of an eye, and she just stood there, her eyes growing teary from the strain.

A sigh came from behind her.

"Cynthia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything that would cause trouble between you two..." he said lazily.

He really hadn't meant it. He had been taking care of and pampering her for so long that it had become a habit. Those words had slipped out without him thinking, forgetting that she was no longer his.

Cynthia blinked hard, pushing down the sadness in her heart. She turned around and smiled at Vincent, who had a guilty look on his face.

"Vince, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

Vincent wasn't at fault. The distance between her and Albert Wilson wasn't because of the careless words he had just said, but because she refused to share the secrets in her heart. In short, their emotional foundation was too fragile.

Vincent moved to the windward side and blocked the howling cold wind for her, then asked,

"So, about the job at the hospital...?"

Cynthia hesitated for a moment before answering,

"Sorry, Vince, but I still have six months until graduation. How about... we talk about it after I graduate?"

Perhaps by the time she graduated, they would have gone their separate ways. Maybe by the time she graduated, their relationship would have deepened to the point where she would be willing to open her heart and share her secrets with him. But perhaps that last "maybe" would forever remain a distant wish...

Vincent suddenly swayed slightly. He knew that though she appeared calm and unassuming, her nature was stubborn. Once she made up her mind about something, nothing could change it, and she would never give something up for anyone.

But now, for Wilson and his feelings, she had given up the career she had always longed for, even abandoning her chance to leave the darkness behind and step into the light!

For her, leaving the darkness for the light was no exaggeration. How could a glamorous and respectable hospital job not be the light compared to a life in the dangerous shadows, where every day was spent walking on the edge of a knife?

He couldn't help but wonder, after all those years together, did she truly love him? Or was it simply dependence? Otherwise, how could he have never seen her so deeply troubled before?

The biting cold wind swept over him again and again. His body had long since grown numb from the cold, yet he remained oblivious. He didn't know how long had passed before he finally snapped out of his thoughts and said to her,

"It's too cold out here. Let's go inside and eat."

She took a step back and shook her head at him.

"No, Vince, I want to go home now..."

He had stormed off in anger, and now she had no mood to eat.

Vincent looked at her small face, which showed no attempt to hide her emotions, and could only say,

"Then... let me take you home?"

Cynthia nodded without refusing and turned to get into Vincent's car.

Meanwhile, after Albert Wilson had driven off in a hurry, the more he thought about the situation, the angrier he became. The fact that she had gone behind his back to meet Vincent already made him furious, and then she had the nerve to exchange glances with Vincent and lie to him. After that, Vincent had done this to him again.

She didn't like eating very hot food? No wonder every time they ate together, she would always eat slowly at first, seeming to have no appetite, and then, by the end, she would eat a bit faster. It turns out she was just afraid of the heat...

At this point, he suddenly realized that he really knew nothing about her, not at all. His anger slowly began to subside. Earlier, in his rage, he had rolled down the car window, letting the cold air rush in. Now that he was calmer, the chill felt like it was cutting into his bones.

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He remembered leaving her behind. It seemed that leaving her alone in the cold, icy night was rather unchivalrous. After a moment of thought, he abruptly made a sharp turn in the car, heading back in the direction he had come from.

By the time he arrived, all he saw was her back as she got into Vincent's car. With a dark expression, he stepped on the gas and drove off without a second glance.

He stayed gone the whole day, not returning until dinnertime. Cynthia, wrapped in a thick sweater, sat in the dining room waiting for him. She called him, but he didn't answer. She texted him asking if he was coming home for dinner, but he didn't reply.

She knew he was really angry this time. She really wanted to be like she used to be—carefree, eating her meal, taking a shower, and going to bed without caring about him. But she knew things were different now.

Caring meant there was something in her heart.

Fredy stood nearby, constantly checking the time, his face filled with anxiety.

"Madam, have you tried calling the young master? If he's not coming back, you should go ahead and eat. It's already this late. The young master is really something..."

Fredy kept mumbling, and Cynthia glanced at the clock, its hour hand almost pointing to 9. Her heart grew heavier. Albert Wilson, what do you want from me? Do you want me to open up to you? Then are you willing to promise me a future?

Her stomach was growling with hunger. She ate a few bites randomly to tide herself over and sat there, continuing to wait. In fact, she wasn't sure what exactly she was waiting for.

She glanced at the clock, finally making up her mind: She would wait until 10 o'clock. If he hadn't come back by then, she would give up. She didn't think she had done anything wrong to deserve being treated this way, with such a cold standoff.

After 10, it would be impossible for her to seek reconciliation.