Love Contract novel Chapter 91

A bad feeling rose in William's heart. However, as he looked deeper into his father's blank gaze, he found nothing wrong. Even then, the nagging feeling still didn't go away.

He drew back and shook his head. 'Maybe I'm just overthinking this, ' he thought. With that, he turned his attention back to the screen.

"Are you free tomorrow and the day after that?" Timothy suddenly uttered.

"I am." Although the younger man was staring at the screen, his mind was fluttering elsewhere. William's fingers grazed against the fabric of his shirt, and he waited for his father to get straight to the point.

Aunt Amy didn't say a word. Unlike her usual talkative self, she had her head lowered and arms crossed. There was something about the way her fingers fidgeted that made her look uneasy despite the peaceful atmosphere.

Mary furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. 'What's going on?'

"Buy all the things we need tomorrow. We can set out the day after tomorrow." Timothy nodded in response. "Got it."

'Set out? Where are we going?' Instead of blurting out her thoughts, Mary sat back and nodded only. It wasn't until they returned to the bedroom did she turn to William.

"What are we preparing for? Where are we going?" she questioned.

"The day after tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother's death." He stopped. The frown on his lips deepened even further. "We'll be getting things ready for the cemetery tomorrow, and we'll probably have a few more relatives with us so the house should be ready to entertain them."

As the words left his lips, Mary froze. She looked like a fish out of water as she opened her mouth and closed it again, finding herself at a loss of what to say. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she managed, paling. "I-"

"I didn't want to tell you." He sighed, turning away. "You should sleep early. We'll be busy tomorrow."

"What do I have to do?" she asked cautiously.

"Aunt Amy will be the one to guide you."

"Okay." Mary gazed at William's retreating figure as he headed towards the bathroom. Silence had fallen upon them, and she took this time to observe his lonely back. Her fingers twitched. A certain heaviness stirred in her heart upon knowing that she couldn't offer anything to lift his spirits.

After the hard rain, the air held a certain chill. Despite wearing a thick pair of pajamas, she still couldn't help but shiver from the cold.

"We should both sleep on the bed tonight," William stated once he got out of the bathroom in his pajamas. "It's cold now, so it's better if we reserve our body heat on the cushion rather than on the floor."

"I'm fine with that." Mary got onto the bed and pulled the covers towards her.

Once she had already made herself comfortable, he also followed. However, this time, her thoughts weren't on the man's physiques or how his body was close to hers. Instead, their silence hung over their awkwardness, and she gritted her teeth. 'Should I say something?' she thought.

"You..." Mary raised her head, wanting to give him a piece of encouragement, but she had nothing else to say.

"You don't have to say anything, you know," William uttered.

"It's been twenty years since she passed away." "It's okay to be sad," she tried. "No matter how long it's been, sometimes, it's hard for us to get rid of the pain."

"The only emotion I have for my mother is hatred. Grief is the last thing I'll ever feel for that woman." Although his words fell flat, there was a certain edge to his tone.

"What? Why?" Mary's eyes widened.

"Don't you hate your father?" Instead of answering her question, he simply threw her another one. However, upon hearing his words, she finally understood his answer.

"I do," she said softly. Once again, silence had overcome them.

While Mary's father had left her for a better life, his mother had left him through suicide. Sometimes, William wondered if his mother had truly cared for him, if she had ever thought of fighting for him instead of succumbing to the darkness. Both of them stared at the ceiling, reflecting the cruelty of their actions.

Even then, they still couldn't help but look back to the times they had laughed with them and even the times they had bonded with them. For if there was no love, how could there have been hate? And that feeling was what had hurt them the most.

In the study located at the third floor of the house, Timothy called his bodyguards over. His finger tapped against the hard wood as he stared at the man who had just raced into the room.

"Sir, what can I do for you?" Although the bodyguard looked to be around forty-year-old, his bulky physique and veiny muscles said otherwise.

"Lenny," he started. "I want you to send more of your men to keep a close eye on William."

"Yes, sir."

"I've already talked with the Liang Family, but keep in touch with them if ever something comes up. As much as possible, he shouldn't know that Frank has gone to Japan."

"Understood, sir."