The sun set in the west.
Victoria Sinclair sat on a bench in the front yard, learning to fold gold and silver paper money from Mrs. Feng and a group of village women, which would be burned for her grandfather that night. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
Wherever there was a cluster of women, it was the village’s news hub, covering everything precisely, from which man’s having an affair to how many puppies the dog at the village entrance gave birth to.
"Why hasn’t your grandfather been buried yet?" one woman asked Victoria Sinclair.
Victoria Sinclair shook her head, "I don’t know."
Mrs. Feng leaned over, lowered her voice, glanced around cautiously as if afraid of being overheard, "Ethan Vaughn hasn’t returned yet. I heard he went on some adventure to a mountain peak and won’t be back for a few days."
"Won’t be back for a few days? His grandfather’s already stinking." The woman muttered with disdain, "Truly an ungrateful grandson."
Ethan Vaughn was Eugene Vaughn’s half-brother.
A proud, unruly playboy without a care in the world.
"Hey, who is that?" Mrs. Feng straightened up, pointing at the car that had stopped ahead.
All the women looked in the direction she was pointing, and Victoria Sinclair was no exception.
"Oh my gosh!" Mrs. Feng yelled, shocked by what she saw, slapping her thigh.
Immediately, all the women looked at Victoria Sinclair with eyes full of sympathy and hidden meaning.
Victoria Sinclair looked at the scene ahead, her chest tightened painfully, her breathing felt like it was stuffed with cotton, difficult and uncomfortable, her hand slightly numbing as she folded the paper.
Vivian Miller got out of the car and threw herself into Eugene Vaughn’s arms, hugging his waist tightly and burying her face in his chest, crying her heart out.
"Eugene, how could Grandfather just go like that? So suddenly... I cried all the way here when I got the news, wailing... Grandfather was always so healthy, why? He was such a good man and loved us grandkids so much, sobbing..."
Victoria Sinclair withdrew her gaze and lowered her head to continue folding paper.
In such a conservative and gossip-ridden village, Eugene Vaughn and Vivian Miller’s behavior was enough to fuel half a lifetime’s worth of post-meal discussions for these women, who might even imagine an incredible drama of infidelity.
Mrs. Feng nudged Victoria Sinclair’s knee with hers, looking exasperated and whispered through clenched teeth, "Eugene’s wife, that little witch from the Miller family dares to hug your husband , aren’t you angry seeing it? If it were me, I’d definitely rush over, grab her hair, and give her a few hard slaps."
Mrs. Feng said through clenched teeth, involuntarily slapping the air twice with her hand.
How could she not be angry?
But her relationship with Eugene Vaughn didn’t even afford her the right to be jealous, let alone fight back.
"Hey, hey, hey, all of you look quickly." A woman urgently pointed ahead, very excited.
Victoria Sinclair didn’t want to watch anymore; her grandfather’s death was grief enough for her.
"Oh my gosh! How could Eugene just carry that little witch into the house?" Mrs. Feng slapped her thigh, stood up annoyed and gossip-laden, throwing down the gold and silver paper money in her hand, "I’m going in to find out."
Mrs. Feng left, and the other women fell silent, quietly observing Victoria Sinclair’s expression, exchanging gossip through their eyes.
If Victoria Sinclair wasn’t present, they would surely be able to spin up a grand drama.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Feng returned like a scout, touching Victoria Sinclair’s hand, "Eugene’s wife, actually that little witch from the Miller family has been on a diet these days, not eating much at all. She said she cried all the way, and just fainted from grief in your husband’s arms."
The woman pursed her lips and sneered, "Pft, overgrieving? Anyone who didn’t know might think she was Eugene’s wife."
"Eugene’s wife is just too mild-mannered." Mrs. Feng patted Victoria Sinclair’s hand, "You can’t go on ; your husband is bound to be seduced away by some little witch from outside sooner or later."
Victoria Sinclair smiled bitterly, "Please don’t misunderstand. Eugene and Vivian are just good friends who grew up together."
Her heart was bleeding, yet she had to act nonchalant.
This was the first time she defended Eugene Vaughn, and it would be the last.
But who would believe her words?
It was late at night.
The Vaughn Family’s second young master still hadn’t returned, and everyone was discussing putting ice blocks inside the deceased grandfather’s coffin to prevent the corpse from rotting.
Tonight, the grandfather’s two sons and villagers were taking turns to keep vigil, but Victoria Sinclair couldn’t stand the drowsiness and trudged back to her room.
Eugene Vaughn had just come out of the bathroom.
A white towel wrapped around his waist below, broad and toned chest muscles, the lines of his waist and abs clearly defined, exuding a powerful masculine aura from head to toe.
The half-dry short hair highlighted his deep and handsome facial features, adding a few degrees of wildness.
The instant their eyes met.
Victoria Sinclair’s heart raced uncontrollably, her eyes having nowhere to rest, hurriedly looking away to another spot, her feet rooted to the doorframe.
Every time she returned to her hometown, she had to share a room with him.
This was when Victoria Sinclair felt most uneasy and constrained.
Eugene Vaughn’s eyes darkened as he walked to the wardrobe, "Where are my clothes?"
His voice was very soft, yet very cold.
Victoria Sinclair pointed to the wardrobe, "In the black luggage bag inside, I haven’t taken them out yet."
Eugene Vaughn opened the wardrobe door, dragged out the luggage bag inside, and placed it on the bench at the foot of the bed.
He unzipped it, picking out a casual suit from the top, perhaps searching for underwear, rummaging inside for a while.
His hand paused for a few seconds, then slowly pulled out a light pink bra, his eyes filled with shock.
When Victoria Sinclair saw her underwear appear in Eugene Vaughn’s hand, her face instantly burned red, her heart pounded like a deer, embarrassed and awkward she rushed over, very flustered, quickly snatching back her underwear, hastily hiding it behind her.
Being so close, her breath was filled with his pleasant bath fragrance mixed with a hint of coolness.
"I couldn’t find your luggage bag, so I put all the clothes in one bag." Victoria Sinclair nervously explained.
Eugene Vaughn lowered his eyes to look at her.
Perhaps after seeing her cheeks blush, his deep black pupils darkened further, after several seconds, he withdrew his gaze, continuing to search for the clothes he wanted.
Eugene Vaughn went to the bathroom to dress.
Victoria Sinclair took advantage of his absence to take out the clothes from the luggage bag, placing them separately in the wardrobe.
Eugene Vaughn came out of the bathroom and left the room straightaway.
That night, he never returned to the room, keeping vigil for the grandfather outside all night.
Victoria Sinclair woke up in the middle of the night, intending to let Eugene Vaughn rest in the room and replace him by the grandfather’s side.
She just walked into the hall when her feet seemed to root again, unable to move.
In the family seating, there were only Eugene Vaughn and Vivian Miller, everyone else had gone to sleep, unable to hold on.
The two sat close together, Vivian Miller seemingly asleep, her head tilted against Eugene Vaughn’s shoulder.
Eugene Vaughn’s expression was somber, staring motionlessly at the grandfather’s coffin, allowing Vivian Miller to lean on his shoulder.
Victoria Sinclair’s not entirely dead heart at that moment felt as if it had been injected with a thousand pounds of cement, gradually solidifying, her painfully bleeding heart too exhausted to struggle, drained tears no longer flowing.
Her hands and feet felt cold, her heart felt frozen through.
No matter how much you love someone, you can’t endure such torment.
Her eyes turned red, she turned around, returning to the room.