Dear Billionaire, I'm Not Your Wife Anymore! - Chapter 14: Chapter 14
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Linda was stunned. She had expected to see me in an awkward, flustered state, but hadn't anticipated me walking toward the piano without hesitation.
I knew she was astonished. She must have been questioning in her mind: I could play piano? That housewife who hadn't even finished university and in her eyes was just surviving through marriage actually dared to sit at the piano?
I didn't overthink it, just quietly sat down. Gentle spotlights fell on my shoulders, and the keys gleamed warmly under my fingertips. In this moment, I was like a lily quietly blooming in the night, opening peacefully and elegantly.
I gently tested a few notes, and the entire hall fell silent. Many people should have realized in that moment: perhaps they had underestimated me from the beginning.
I hadn't sat down to prove anything. I used to hate piano—yes, for those years, whenever piano music played, my heart would feel torn apart because it reminded me of that woman, the one who had once moved Braden with her piano skills.
But later I understood that I didn't hate piano; I hated those memories. The notes themselves were beautiful. Why should I miss the beauty of music because of one person? So I started learning again, from the beginning, willingly and dedicatedly.
I wouldn't dare say I was excellent—after all, Linda was an international-level pianist—but I was capable of playing a piece completely, beautifully, even movingly.
When the piece ended, I stood up, gave a light bow to everyone, then walked back to my seat in the silence. I didn't look at Linda's face, nor did I want to. I just picked up my wine glass and drank a sip of red wine, letting that mellow fragrance slowly flow through my heart.
Just then, a soft word of praise sounded beside my ear: "Truly impressive."
I looked up to meet Cole's undisguised admiration. His gaze was gentle and clear, as if saying: I always thought you were more than this.
I smiled back, my red lips curving slightly. At least his praise was genuine.
The next moment, I heard the sound of Braden draining his wine in one gulp, then standing up: "It's late, we should head back."
"Braden still has a five-year-old treasure at home! Then let's call it a night." Charles quickly agreed.
Braden glanced at Gavin, and I could see clearly that his gaze held entrustment. Gavin also nodded, seemingly understanding something.
I caught this scene perfectly.
Linda still stood there, her pretty face slightly flushed, her demeanor composed, as if completely accepting Braden's arrangements as natural. I withdrew my gaze, picked up my bag, and nodded to Cole, "Mr. Maverick, goodbye."
"Yes, see you another day." He pushed his glasses with a gentle smile.
After getting in the car, I opened the passenger door and sat down. Without saying a word, Braden suddenly floored the accelerator, and the car sped down the mountain.
I frowned slightly, looking at him sideways, sensing his displeasure spreading as uncontrollably as the car's speed.
Was he angry that I didn't save face for Linda? Or was he annoyed that I had stolen her spotlight? I didn't want to guess, and I was too lazy to ask.
I just wanted to go home, take a hot bath, then hold Mia and sleep peacefully. In the future, his circle, his games, his woman—I didn't want to participate anymore.
For the next two days, Braden was nowhere to be seen during the day. And I gave all my time to my daughter.
On the third day at 3 PM, he came home in the drizzle. His wet trench coat was taken off and handed to a servant, and he acted as if nothing had happened, crouching down to hug Mia.
"Daddy's home!" Mia called out sweetly while playing with blocks.
Braden lowered his head to kiss her face, but Mia pushed him away, "Daddy don't kiss me, my little house is about to fall!"
I looked up and happened to see a faint lipstick mark on his collar, right below his Adam's apple.
That position was special, as if some woman had accidentally brushed against him while acting coquettishly in his arms.
"Good girl." He smiled, ruffled his daughter's hair, then got up and went upstairs.
I didn't ask questions. I didn't want to waste more emotion guessing where those ambiguous traces came from.
At 5:30 PM, a servant came to notify us that we would be going out for dinner in ten minutes.
Our family went to that upscale Chinese restaurant in the city center. The Christmas atmosphere on the streets hadn't completely dissipated, and neon lights and street decorations warmed the night somewhat.
Mia sat in Braden's arms, well-behaved and curiously looking around.
"Daddy, Aunt Linda, I see Aunt Linda!" Mia suddenly pointed in a direction with her small hand.
I looked over and saw a familiar figure standing up to get her bag by the window. Linda.
"Linda? What a coincidence, you're also eating here?" Olivia said in surprise.
Linda looked surprised and delighted as she smiled, "What a coincidence! Auntie, how did you all come here too?"
I knew she was astonished. She must have been questioning in her mind: I could play piano? That housewife who hadn't even finished university and in her eyes was just surviving through marriage actually dared to sit at the piano?
I didn't overthink it, just quietly sat down. Gentle spotlights fell on my shoulders, and the keys gleamed warmly under my fingertips. In this moment, I was like a lily quietly blooming in the night, opening peacefully and elegantly.
I gently tested a few notes, and the entire hall fell silent. Many people should have realized in that moment: perhaps they had underestimated me from the beginning.
I hadn't sat down to prove anything. I used to hate piano—yes, for those years, whenever piano music played, my heart would feel torn apart because it reminded me of that woman, the one who had once moved Braden with her piano skills.
But later I understood that I didn't hate piano; I hated those memories. The notes themselves were beautiful. Why should I miss the beauty of music because of one person? So I started learning again, from the beginning, willingly and dedicatedly.
I wouldn't dare say I was excellent—after all, Linda was an international-level pianist—but I was capable of playing a piece completely, beautifully, even movingly.
When the piece ended, I stood up, gave a light bow to everyone, then walked back to my seat in the silence. I didn't look at Linda's face, nor did I want to. I just picked up my wine glass and drank a sip of red wine, letting that mellow fragrance slowly flow through my heart.
Just then, a soft word of praise sounded beside my ear: "Truly impressive."
I looked up to meet Cole's undisguised admiration. His gaze was gentle and clear, as if saying: I always thought you were more than this.
I smiled back, my red lips curving slightly. At least his praise was genuine.
The next moment, I heard the sound of Braden draining his wine in one gulp, then standing up: "It's late, we should head back."
"Braden still has a five-year-old treasure at home! Then let's call it a night." Charles quickly agreed.
Braden glanced at Gavin, and I could see clearly that his gaze held entrustment. Gavin also nodded, seemingly understanding something.
I caught this scene perfectly.
Linda still stood there, her pretty face slightly flushed, her demeanor composed, as if completely accepting Braden's arrangements as natural. I withdrew my gaze, picked up my bag, and nodded to Cole, "Mr. Maverick, goodbye."
"Yes, see you another day." He pushed his glasses with a gentle smile.
After getting in the car, I opened the passenger door and sat down. Without saying a word, Braden suddenly floored the accelerator, and the car sped down the mountain.
I frowned slightly, looking at him sideways, sensing his displeasure spreading as uncontrollably as the car's speed.
Was he angry that I didn't save face for Linda? Or was he annoyed that I had stolen her spotlight? I didn't want to guess, and I was too lazy to ask.
I just wanted to go home, take a hot bath, then hold Mia and sleep peacefully. In the future, his circle, his games, his woman—I didn't want to participate anymore.
For the next two days, Braden was nowhere to be seen during the day. And I gave all my time to my daughter.
On the third day at 3 PM, he came home in the drizzle. His wet trench coat was taken off and handed to a servant, and he acted as if nothing had happened, crouching down to hug Mia.
"Daddy's home!" Mia called out sweetly while playing with blocks.
Braden lowered his head to kiss her face, but Mia pushed him away, "Daddy don't kiss me, my little house is about to fall!"
I looked up and happened to see a faint lipstick mark on his collar, right below his Adam's apple.
That position was special, as if some woman had accidentally brushed against him while acting coquettishly in his arms.
"Good girl." He smiled, ruffled his daughter's hair, then got up and went upstairs.
I didn't ask questions. I didn't want to waste more emotion guessing where those ambiguous traces came from.
At 5:30 PM, a servant came to notify us that we would be going out for dinner in ten minutes.
Our family went to that upscale Chinese restaurant in the city center. The Christmas atmosphere on the streets hadn't completely dissipated, and neon lights and street decorations warmed the night somewhat.
Mia sat in Braden's arms, well-behaved and curiously looking around.
"Daddy, Aunt Linda, I see Aunt Linda!" Mia suddenly pointed in a direction with her small hand.
I looked over and saw a familiar figure standing up to get her bag by the window. Linda.
"Linda? What a coincidence, you're also eating here?" Olivia said in surprise.
Linda looked surprised and delighted as she smiled, "What a coincidence! Auntie, how did you all come here too?"
End of Dear Billionaire, I'm Not Your Wife Anymore! Chapter 14. Continue reading Chapter 15 or return to Dear Billionaire, I'm Not Your Wife Anymore! book page.