Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 74: Chapter 74

After saying that, I stood up and turned to walk away.
The air seemed to freeze.
His heart felt hollow, as if he had lost something that could never return.
He looked down at the divorce agreement on the table but didn't open it.
Three years of marriage—not long, not short.
He had thought himself blameless, but indeed he had never been good to me, not caring enough, not fulfilling his duties as a husband.
The past me had been well-behaved and understanding, knowing he was busy, solving everything I could myself, and bearing what I couldn't solve alone.
Perhaps precisely because I was so understanding, he became increasingly unrestrained, increasingly cold.
He thought that no matter how much he ignored me, I would never resist, never leave.
But disappointment accumulates slowly.
When it reaches its peak, I would leave.
He didn't want a divorce.
Maybe because I was obedient and understanding, suitable to be his wife.
Maybe because Scott liked me and could make the family happy.
Maybe it was male possessiveness.
In the first year after I left, he dreamed of me in a white dress, holding a child's hand, with a man beside me—they looked very happy, and that man wasn't him.
He woke up startled and smoked all night, unable to accept that I would become someone else's wife.
Perhaps he was just tormented by possessiveness.
He rubbed his temples, looking at the divorce agreement with a headache.
At this moment, Neil walked over. Seeing the heavy atmosphere around him and the agreement on the table, he couldn't help but shiver.
"Sir, Miss Reynolds has left."
Arnold remained silent, the chill in the air growing thicker.
I didn't return to the private room.
Clara sent me a message saying that to avoid trouble, she had already taken the three children home.
I walked out of the restaurant, and just after taking two steps, a car sped toward me, almost hitting me.
I quickly stepped back two paces, but the car still brushed past my clothes.
The speed was too fast, frightening me until my face turned pale.
I looked up to see two women getting out of the car.
Victoria took off her sunglasses, stood by the car with her chin raised, her face full of smugness.
If it were someone else, I might imagine it was a misunderstanding or poor driving skills.
But seeing her, I was one hundred percent certain this was completely intentional.
My expression immediately turned cold. The one who came with Victoria was Heatherine.
She wore a triumphant smile, her lips curling with mockery: "Paisley, what a coincidence."
Coincidence? Where was the coincidence?
I didn't believe there were such coincidences in this world. They must have tracked me here through Arnold.
Victoria stood there, raised an eyebrow, her lips carrying a malicious smile, showing undisguised hostility: "Paisley, you react so quickly."
I narrowed my eyes, staring at her: "You were trying to hit me."
She smiled and denied: "Not at all, my hands just didn't obey me, I accidentally turned the steering wheel the wrong way."
I stepped forward, raising an eyebrow: "Is that so?"
Victoria curled her lips, "Yes..."
Suddenly, "slap"—a slap landed on her face without warning.
She was stunned, covering her face, head turned to the side, taking a while to react.
Heatherine stared wide-eyed in surprise, "Victoria?"
Victoria looked up, full of shock, completely not expecting me to dare hit her in front of everyone. Her ears were ringing as she bit her lip, "Paisley, you hit me."
I coldly mimicked her: "Not at all, my hands just didn't obey me, I accidentally touched your face."
"You!" She was so angry her face contorted, as if she wanted to bite me to death, raising her hand to retaliate.
I steadily caught her hand and backhanded her with another slap.
Now it was symmetrical.
Victoria probably really enjoyed being hit—the swelling from a few days ago had just gone down, and here she was again today.
She covered her face, eyes red, tears spinning in her eye sockets.
At this moment, her gaze suddenly fell on the man walking out from behind.
Her expression changed as she forcefully broke free from my hand, falling to the side, trying to pretend I had pushed her down.
I saw through her trick immediately, and through the car window's reflection, I saw Arnold behind me.
My eyes flashed as I directly grabbed Victoria and threw her into Arnold's arms.
Arnold was unprepared and instinctively reached out to catch her.
Victoria screamed, tears instantly flowing, "Arnold..."
I raised an eyebrow—who did she think she could fool with this trick?
Why bother falling down when I could just send her directly into Arnold's arms? Wasn't that better?
Arnold looked down and asked: "What are you doing now?"
Victoria covered her face, looking down, full of grievance but not daring to speak.
Heatherine immediately spoke up: "Mr. Cavendish, Victoria is just too easy to bully. She was just slapped twice by my cousin for no reason."
I coldly retorted: "For no reason? Why are you still talking anyways? Oh, I forgot to slap you. My bad."
My voice was icy cold and imposing. Heatherine's face turned pale as she hurriedly covered her face.
Victoria cried like rain, saying mournfully: "It wasn't for no reason, it's my fault. My car almost hit Paisley, so Paisley hitting me was deserved. Paisley, are you satisfied now? If not, you can continue, as long as you're happy."
I nodded: "Good."