My Boyfriend Played Broke to Fool Me, So I Vanished Chapter 10

My Boyfriend Played Broke to Fool Me, So I Vanished Chapter 10

The wedding was even more boring than I’d imagined.

Damian Whitmore and I slipped out to the garden during the banquet to get some fresh air.

He took a phone call.

While I was wandering alone, I saw Evan walking toward me, his face flushed with alcohol.

Evan’s eyes were stained with the despair of being abandoned.

The moment he got close, the overwhelming smell of alcohol hit my nose.

With just the two of us now, he finally asked that crucial question.

“You remember. Don’t you?”

I looked at him calmly.

Gave no reply.

But he knew the answer.

He suddenly let out a bitter laugh. Before he even spoke, his voice carried a slight tremor and a sob-like quality.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know Luna would send people to hurt you. If I’d known… I would have taken you

away that day…”

He still had the causality backwards.

What he needed to apologize for wasn’t Luna hurting me.

But that he had hurt me too.

But I had no need to keep arguing with him.

I raised my wine glass and tipped it toward him. “Happy wedding.”

This sentence was destined to be nothing more than a hollow wish.

After all, people like him and Luna-they’d never be happy anywhere.

He seemed to want to say something more, but swallowed it back when he saw Damian Whitmore’s

figure approaching.

Evan forced a smile at me and raised his glass. “You too.”

Watching his retreating back, I thought to myself-he and Luna should cherish their families’ final glory while it lasted.

Parents will grow old eventually.

And they can’t shoulder responsibility on their own.

Damian Whitmore and my parents-both are the vengeful type.

Who knows how things will play out later?

After Damian Whitmore came over, he glanced with great displeasure in the direction Evan had left.

“What were you talking about?”

“He knew I was lying. Came to apologize.”

“And you? What are you thinking about?”

Autumn had arrived. The garden was thick with the intense fragrance of osmanthus.

And what was I thinking?

Cold dew falls silently, wetting the osmanthus blossoms.

The most scorching, tormented summer of my life-had finally, completely passed.