Love I Can No Longer Touch Chapter 10
However, Ashley suddenly showed up at my door one day. She’d grown much more haggard, and even her hair was
a mess.
I’d heard that after I left, she’d thrown herself entirely into her work. Jordan stayed by her side day and night, but she gradually grew cold toward him.
Even though Mrs. Weston urged her again and again, Ashley refused to give Jordan a formal commitment.
That all changed when the company suffered a catastrophic loss of over 200 million dollars due to Jordan’s mistakes. He vanished with the remaining funds, and his whereabouts were unknown.
The truth was, the Hanson family had been an empty shell for years. The entire dynasty had simply been hiding the rot from the outside world.
It wasn’t until then that the secret was finally exposed and splashed across the social news. I happened to glance at the headline once, but I laughed it off like any other piece of gossip in the news and moved on.
I never imagined that at such a critical moment, Ashley would have the presence of mind to come looking for me.
“Shaun, I’ve cleaned up both the company and the house,” she said, holding a thermal container toward me.” Would you be willing to come back?”
The pampered heiress, whose fingers had never touched a speck of dirt, couldn’t cook. Even back when we were living in the basement, she’d been an absolute menace in the kitchen.
Still, it pained her to see me always massaging her migraines away. She never did get the hang of real cooking, but she mastered the art of soup.
Just soup, though. Nothing else.
The aroma of chicken soup drifted from the thermal container. In an instant, it pulled me back to that dim basement, where we huddled together in a kitchen coated in grease that no amount of scrubbing could remove. There, we shared a single bowl of chicken soup.
Instead of accepting, I looked up and gave her a small smile. From beside me, Susan took the thermal container and pressed it back into Ashley’s arms.
“Sorry, but he’s in rehabilitation, and chicken soup isn’t exactly ideal for bone recovery.”
Susan stood at my side, staking her claim. I had never given her that right, but it was enough that Ashley understood.
Ashley was a smart woman. She didn’t need a lengthy explanation to grasp what was happening.
Even if I hadn’t chosen Susan yet, between the two of them, I wouldn’t choose Ashley again.
As of today, Ashley had no reason to cling to me anymore.
She left that day. However, I knew she came back almost every week. She never came too close and would only
watch from a distance.
Apart from that, Ashley managed the company well, and Weston Group’s stock continued to climb steadily upward.
This went on for three years, during which Susan never changed, and neither did Ashley.
After those three years had passed, I proposed to Susan, and she said yes.
On the day of the wedding, Ashley sent a gift of such extravagance that both Susan and I were struck speechless.
Some guests muttered it was the ex-wife stirring up trouble one last time.
I was worried that Ashley might show up and ruin the wedding. It wasn’t until the next day, when I saw the news. that the Weston family had permanently emigrated to Fauxland, that I knew Ashley had truly moved on.
In the fifth year of my marriage to Susan, she took time off work to take me on a trip.
On the plane, she gave my hands their daily massage. This was a habit she had kept for eight years, unbroken from, the very first day I stepped into her consultation room.
In truth, my hands had fully healed by the time we were married. Under Susan’s meticulous care, they had recovered without a single lingering issue. Yet, she still insisted on giving me a massage every day.
She said, “Your hands are the most precious things to me. It’s because of them that we met. I want to protect them well. That’s the only way I know how to love you enough.”
