CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151: USING VIAGRA TO SPICE THINGS UP FOR HIM

The next morning, an unusual silence pervaded the Sinclair Family’s dining table.

Across from me, Julian Sinclair sat with a handsome face cold like a thin layer of ice.

During past meals, though he spoke little, he would still respond to his grandmother occasionally.

At this moment, however, he kept his eyes down, mechanically cutting the food on his plate, surrounded by an aura of coldness.

Initially, Madam Sinclair did not notice anything amiss. She scooped a spoonful of porridge with a silver spoon and smiled at me, "Oh right, Zoe, what gift did Julian give you last night? I saw him fiddling with a small box in the study the day before, acting all mysteriously, and he wouldn’t even tell me."

My hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly, and instantly my mind flashed back to last night when he came in, he did seem to be holding a small square box.

Before I could speak, Julian Sinclair suddenly put down his knife and fork, his voice cold and devoid of warmth, "Grandma, I have to go on a business trip to a neighboring city recently, so I won’t be staying at home for this period. If there’s anything urgent, just call me directly."

I looked up at him, but he deliberately avoided my gaze.

I knew that perhaps the business trip was just an excuse.

He simply did not want to see me.

So now, with Doris and Sharon living here like uninvited guests, what should we do?

Should we really wait for the day when he directly asks us to leave?

Before Madam Sinclair could speak, I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitterness in my throat, and said softly, "Grandma, I’ve been staying here for quite some time now. The previous issues have already settled down, and I think it’s time for me to take Doris and the others back to our own home."

As soon as I finished speaking, Julian’s hand holding the stirring spoon paused for a moment, and the silver spoon collided lightly with the wall of the coffee cup, making a soft sound.

In just a second, he returned to his usual state, leisurely stirring his coffee.

Foam spun in the cup, yet his face remained expressionless, as if my words were of no consequence.

Only then did Madam Sinclair belatedly recognize the tension.

She glanced at her cold-faced grandson, furrowing her brows in realization, and kicked Julian under the table with a slightly reproachful tone, "Did you have a fight with Zoe? Yesterday was her birthday, what gift did you give that made her angry?"

Julian gave me a glance and said, "She doesn’t need the gift I gave."

Madam Sinclair looked even more puzzled, appearing utterly confused.

Awkwardly, I said, "Grandma, don’t misunderstand, Attorney Sinclair didn’t have an argument with me. But I think that before my divorce procedures are completed, it’s better to sort out the relationship to avoid... causing unnecessary trouble for each other."

"I agree with her thoughts."

Julian’s voice followed, still with that cold and distant demeanor.

Madam Sinclair completely lost her patience; she looked at us confronting each other, her smile gradually faded, leaving only confusion and bewilderment.

At this moment, Julian stood up, took the suit jacket handed over by the maid, and glanced down at me, his gaze containing complex and indistinguishable emotions.

Then, he said to his grandmother, "She is right, we indeed should clarify things between us."

After speaking, he turned and walked away without the slightest hesitation.

I stared at his departing figure, my eyes instantly feeling warm, and I hurriedly lowered my head, pretending to focus intently on the white porridge in my bowl.

Nevertheless, Madam Sinclair saw through me. She gently patted my hand.

Just as I was about to discuss the moving matter, the maid at the door hurriedly walked in and respectfully said, "Madam, the workers installing the slide-bed have arrived. Shall I let them in now?"

I was stunned, a slide-bed?

Madam Sinclair laughed and explained, "The other day Doris told me that at home, they sleep on small beds with slides, they can even slide before bedtime. I thought, since the children are staying here, they should have something they like, so I discretely ordered one to be delivered today."

"But..."

I opened my mouth, yet before I could speak, Madam Sinclair held my hand.

Her palm was warm and rough with the warmth of time.

"Zoe, I know you’re feeling troubled."

Madam Sinclair looked at me lovingly, saying, "Julian, that child, lost his parents at a young age, and I raised him alone. He’s cold-tempered because he never learned how to express care, nor how to keep those he cares about? I’m not sure what happened yesterday, but could you give him a little time, and give yourself some time too? Just one week. If within the week, he still doesn’t apologize or keeps you feeling aggrieved, if you wish to leave, Grandma absolutely won’t stop you. I’ll personally escort you all back, alright?"

I couldn’t hold back any longer; I didn’t know what good fortune allowed me to meet a senior like Madam Sinclair in this life.

I said chokingly, "Grandma, Attorney Sinclair didn’t make me mad, really. It’s just... just yesterday I suddenly realized that my relationship with him might be progressing too fast. Many things, we still haven’t had time to think through or prepare."

"If you can’t figure it out, think slowly, and if you’re not prepared, take your time to prepare." Madam Sinclair, however, waved her hand, her tone certain, "But regardless, he’s a man and is so much older than you. Even if there’s a misunderstanding, he shouldn’t be so cold to you. In this matter, it’s indeed his fault!"

After saying that, she raised her voice towards the door, "Tell the workers to move the slide-bed to Doris and Sharon’s room; be careful not to bump into the children."

Then, she smiled at me, saying, "Look, Grandma has already brought the slide-bed home, and if you move now, wouldn’t it be a waste? Just stay a few more days with the kids and keep me company, alright?"

My heart softened completely, and my eyes were burning with warmth.

I gently hugged Madam Sinclair’s shoulder, my voice thick with nasal sound, "Grandma, thank you... really, thank you."

"Silly child, why be so formal with Grandma."

Madam Sinclair lovingly patted my back, saying, "Grandma has long treated you like her own granddaughter. Ever since you brought the children here, Grandma feels like this place increasingly resembles a home."

...

After breakfast, I returned to the bedroom.

Today is the weekend; I don’t need to go to work, and the children don’t have to go to kindergarten either.

I sit alone in the room, my mind repeatedly conjuring up Julian Sinclair’s departing silhouette.

I open my laptop, having promised the editor to write a new book. I even have ideas and an outline.

But because of this matter, I can’t write a single word.

I simply find a stainless steel basin and take out the peace charm from the drawer.

The square fabric pouch, with "peace" embroidered in red thread, remains vibrant.

Once, when I finished embroidering, my heart was so satisfied and excited; yet at this moment, the peace charm in my hand feels as heavy as a branding iron.

If it weren’t for it, Julian and I could’ve avoided ending up like this.

My heart seems tangled in a mess, blocking my breath.

I place the peace charm in the center of the metal basin, lighting it up with a lighter.

The flickering flames reflect in my eyes, as if those irrecuperable old times are burning their final memories.

...

Outside the door, Doris originally wanted to share with Mom the slide bed that Great-grandma bought, but as she just opens the door a crack, she sees Mom burning the peace charm Dad gave her yesterday.

Doris’ small steps freeze instantly.

Just now, Dad specially called her, asking if she had given the peace charm to Mom, asking what Mom’s reaction was after receiving it.

Doris really doesn’t understand how much Mom hates Dad to even burn something Dad sent.

She doesn’t dare to enter, nor disturb Mom. She quietly tiptoes back to her room.

After hesitating for a while, she waits for Sharon to leave to play with Great-grandma, and alone in the room, calls Dad.

The call is quickly answered, Timothy Xavier’s gentle voice comes through the receiver, "Doris, why call Dad all of a sudden?"

While sitting on the slide, Doris says sulkily, "Didn’t you ask what reaction Mom had to receiving the peace charm?"

"Yes, what... was her reaction?" Timothy’s questioning carries a hint of anticipation.

"She burned it."

Doris says, "Dad, don’t send peace charms in the future, they burn away easily. You better give Mom big diamonds, those can’t be burnt."

Upon hearing Zoe Ellison burned the peace charm she once embroidered for him, Timothy’s heart sinks halfway.

He originally held a sliver of hope, maybe Zoe was just temporarily angry and would remember past memories upon seeing the peace charm.

But now, that hope is completely extinguished like a basin of cold water, chilling him to the bone.

He forces a smile over the phone, "Alright, Dad knows. Doris, be good, mind your behavior at The Sinclair Family, don’t upset Mom."

After hanging up, Timothy looks at the screensaver photo of the family of three.

Ironically, this is a photo he had Photoshopped, piecing together pictures of himself, Zoe, and Doris.

Thus, the three of them finally look whole together in one picture.

The sunlight outside is piercing, stabbing his eyes, as Timothy leans back in his chair, his eyes stinging with pain.

He doesn’t want to lose Zoe, he doesn’t want to lose this family.

...

The Sinclair Family.

After burning the peace charm, the blockages in my heart finally seem to find an outlet.

I am finally able to sit in front of the computer, immersing myself in my new book.

The beginning of the new book has pleased the editor greatly, and soon a contract is signed with a rather generous offer.

This counts as the only good news over the weekend.

And Julian Sinclair seems to have vanished into thin air, no calls, no messages.

When I finish a day’s writing and calm down, that’s when I realize my heart feels like something has been hollowed out.

I can’t help but wonder, should this fragile relationship with Julian Sinclair, unable to withstand any turbulence, really continue?

At this moment, the phone beside me suddenly rings urgently, the screen showing the words "The Ellison Family."

My heart skips a beat; it’s almost eleven o’clock, why would The Ellison Family call now?

As I answer the phone, Mrs. Ellison’s helpless voice comes through, tinged with urgency, "Zoe, you’d better come back here! Timothy Xavier suddenly broke into the house yesterday, went up to your old attic, and has been there for two whole days! Your father and I have tried our best to persuade him, but he refuses to come out, and has even locked the attic door. We were thinking about calling the police to report him for trespassing, but the bodyguards he brought are staring at us in the living room! They said if we want to make a call, it should only be to you."

I frown in frustration, a surge of anger rushing to my heart.

No wonder he’s been quiet these two days, turns out he’s employing a new trick!

I’ve already blocked all his contact information; since he can’t reach me, he resorts to harassing The Ellison Family.

I suddenly recall Julian Sinclair’s mention of retracting the lawsuit that day.

The thought of continuing to deal with a man as obstinate as Timothy Xavier makes my scalp tingle.

I even entertain an absurd idea: to call Julian Sinclair right now, humble myself a bit, and ask him to help me get divorced anyway first.

But as soon as this thought emerged, I immediately suppressed it.

Julian Sinclair’s attitude was so firm that even if I said it, he might not agree.

I sighed heavily and said to the phone, "Mom and Dad, don’t worry about him. Just eat and sleep as usual. He’s just trying to cause a scene for me to see. Once he’s had enough, he’ll leave on his own."

"But he drank alcohol in the attic!"

Mrs. Ellison’s voice became more urgent, "What if he gets alcohol poisoning or falls and hurts himself? Wouldn’t he blame us then?"

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Mrs. Ellison is right. If Timothy Xavier really has an accident at The Ellison Family home, with Sophia Kendall’s personality, she might just tear the roof off.

But I really don’t want to go over and deal with him.

Therefore, I said, "I know, I’ll call the police now."

I was about to hang up when suddenly a strange man’s voice came through the phone, presumably Timothy Xavier’s bodyguard had taken over the call.

With a hint of threat in his tone, he said, "Ma’am, President Xavier says he doesn’t want to turn against The Ellison Family, and hopes you won’t plan for mutual destruction. It wouldn’t be good for anyone."

I took a deep breath, my chest almost exploding with anger.

He’s already responsible for my mother’s death, and now he still refuses to stop.

Is he determined to ruin everyone around me, forcing me to live forever in guilt, before he’s satisfied?

I suppressed my fury and said coldly, "Tell Timothy Xavier that I’m coming over now. If my parents get hurt, I will stop at nothing to make him suffer."

After hanging up, I quickly changed my clothes. As I walked out, I started searching for Serena Sawyer’s QQ number on my phone.

She added me when she didn’t know I was the screenwriter, wanting to discuss collaboration.

I quickly typed a line: "Timothy Xavier is at The Ellison Family drinking and refusing to leave. Your chance has arrived, come and get him."

After sending it, Serena Sawyer did not immediately reply.

But I knew she wouldn’t pass up this opportunity.

Serena’s obsession with Timothy Xavier is no less intense than Timothy’s entanglement with me. If there’s a chance to get close to him, she’ll surely come.

Then I started the car and drove towards The Ellison Family’s old house.

...

Half an hour later, I arrived at The Ellison Family home.

Mrs. Ellison was pacing anxiously at the garden gate.

Seeing me arrive, she vented to me, "Timothy Xavier is still in that little attic. You should go check on him!"

I took a deep breath and walked up to the attic.

It was only upon reaching the stairs that I noticed the lavender lining both sides, which I love.

I continued upwards, and the door to the attic was ajar, warm yellow light spilling out from the cracks.

As I pushed the door open, I froze.

The wind chimes I had pulled down before were now hanging all over the room, producing a gentle ringing sound as the wind blew.

On the desk were paper stars we had folded together years ago.

The room I had once emptied, thrown away, was restored to its original state.

Timothy Xavier sat on the floor next to a wicker chair, his slender fingers holding a wine glass, his wrist resting casually on a bent knee.

The bottle beside him was already empty.

Though his stance was disheveled, he still exuded a certain cool elegance.

Upon hearing footsteps, he abruptly looked up, his previously dull gaze instantly focusing on me.

Then, he staggered to his feet, spilling a few drops of wine from the glass.

As he approached me, the smell of alcohol mixed with lavender wafted from him, making me frown.

Before I could say anything, Timothy Xavier suddenly reached out and grasped my hand, the warmth from his palm was scorching.

Like a child showing off his treasure, his misty, slightly intoxicated eyes sparkled, his voice trembling ever so faintly, "Zoe, look, I’ve spent two days setting this place up just like before. Each wish on these chimes is just like what you wrote. What I couldn’t do before, I will fulfill for you in the future, okay?"

I used quite a bit of force to pull my hand from his, calmly looked at him and said, "Timothy Xavier, have you had enough of your madness?"

As soon as I finished speaking, the light in his eyes instantly dimmed.

Word by word, I said, "Why do you think that using these fragments of the past can erase the harm you’ve done to me? What you owe me is a life!"

Timothy Xavier stood frozen, staring straight at me, his slightly drunk eyes veiled with a layer of mist.

He seemed unable to comprehend my words, lost in his own world, speaking to himself, "Zoe, what I missed before, what disappointed you, I will make up to you bit by bit. We have so many memories here. Have you really forgotten them all?"

"Zoe, we’re waiting for you outside."

Mrs. Ellison’s voice suddenly came from the door.

I turned to look, Mrs. Ellison and Mr. Ellison stood at the top of the stairs, their faces filled with unease.

Mrs. Ellison feared Timothy Xavier might lose control and attack me after drinking. She discreetly signaled me not to provoke him and mouthed words, urging me to find a way to get him to leave.

I simply walked over to the wicker chair and sat down, listening to him mumble in his semi-conscious state, ignoring him.

After all, Serena Sawyer should be arriving soon.

Seeing that I didn’t respond, Timothy’s drunkenness seemed to deepen.

He stepped forward, squatted in front of me, grasped my knees, and pleaded, "Zoe, can you say something? Even if it’s to curse at me, just speak to me!"

I looked up at him, my tone as calm as a dead lake: "Your bodyguard said earlier that you wanted to see me, or else you’d take action against The Ellison Family. Well, now you’ve seen me, and I’ve spoken to you. Can you leave now?"

Timothy’s hands suddenly loosened, as if the words had pierced him deeply.

He staggered to his feet and leaned against the wall, giving a self-mocking laugh, "I just wanted to see you... When I call, you don’t answer, and you don’t reply to my messages. I had no other option but to resort to this."

Just then, the voice of a maid came from downstairs: "Sir, Madam, Serena Sawyer is here. She says she wants to see President Xavier, should I let her in?"

"That shameless woman! Get her out!" Mrs. Ellison’s voice heightened instantly.

I quickly said, "Mom, I was the one who invited her."

Mrs. Ellison looked at me in disbelief, "Zoe, you invited her? Are you crazy?"

I glanced at Timothy, and Mrs. Ellison immediately understood my intention, hurriedly shouting to the maid, "Let her up!"

Timothy finally realized it too.

He lifted his head, his cool eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of dust, tainted with bitterness: "Zoe, why are you pushing me away?"

I met his gaze, my tone flat and unmoved: "You were the one who left my world first."

Just as I finished speaking, the sound of high heels echoed from the stairway.

Serena Sawyer came up, her makeup exquisitely done, clearly having dressed carefully.

No wonder it took her so long.

But when she saw the wind chimes and other old items in the attic, her expression suddenly froze.

She instantly understood this place was part of my and Timothy’s past.

Serena’s mouth barely twitched, a fleeting trace of hatred flashed in her eyes.

She looked at me and said, "Miss Ellison, did you invite me over to see how much he loves you and to declare sovereignty?"

I found her quite pitiful this way.

"I’m not that bored. You better hurry up and take him away. If you don’t act fast, I’ll change my mind and keep him here."

After I spoke, Serena looked nervous, afraid the duck she had in hand would fly away.

She quickly moved to Timothy’s side, reaching out to hold his arm, "Timothy, why did you drink so much? Come on, stop making trouble, they’re going to kick us out. Let me take you home, okay?"

Timothy suddenly shook her hand off, with such force that it almost made Serena fall.

He cast me one last glance, filled with disappointment and unwillingness.

Then, without saying another word, he turned around, staggering, holding the wall, and stumbling downstairs.

Serena glared at me hatefully and quickly followed Timothy.

The wind chimes in the attic were stirred by a breeze, the warm yellow light remained gentle, but the moods of the past would never return.

For me, now, they have lost all meaning.

...

The red sedan drove smoothly in the night, with only a dim mood light inside, casting flickering shadows over Timothy Xavier’s profile.

The man leaned against the passenger seat, furrowing his brows slightly as his long eyelashes cast a faint shadow below.

Serena Sawyer tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her peripheral vision clinging to the man beside her.

A hint of calculation flashed in her eyes.

These few days coincided with her ovulation period.

The last time, she was pregnant with Declan Ellison’s child, which she had to heartlessly get rid of.

But if tonight, she could conceive Timothy Xavier’s child?

Once this idea sprouted, it wrapped around her heart like vines.

As long as she was pregnant with his child, even if he didn’t love her, for the stability of Xavier Group, to prevent any scandal, he’d have to take responsibility!

By then, money, resources, status—all she wanted would be at her fingertips, and Timothy wouldn’t be able to let go of her easily!

After all, he would never allow her to appear in public with a big belly, ruining The Xavier Family and his reputation.

To conceal the scandal, he’d have to be under her control.

Serena’s mouth curled into a sinister smile as she parked the car outside a 24-hour pharmacy.

After confirming that the sleeping Timothy showed no signs of waking, she opened the car door and quickly walked inside.

She’d heard that a drunken man couldn’t perform sexually, so she could only use ’Viagra’ to give him a little boost!