When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 04

When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 04

He kissed my cheek recklessly, his hot lips filled with a desperate, almost irrational urgency.

I had no idea what was going through his mind, but I knew I didn’t want this.

I loved him, deeply and passionately, but that didn’t mean I’d let myself be nothing more than an outlet for his desire.

I turned my head away.

As he roughly tore open the skirt I’d carefully chosen just to please him, a tear slipped unbidden from the corner of my eye.

Henson stopped again, this time for a long moment.

He let go of me and tried to help me put the skirt back on, but it was already ruined.

He took off his jacket and draped it over me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Then he turned and walked out the door.

[Great! Even though there was a little detour, everything’s back on track in the end! The ML has finally lost interest in the side chick! And on the way home, the FL opened up to him, and he’s already offered to send her to Berklee!]

[But something feels off to me. When the ML agreed to it in the car, his face was completely blank. It didn’t look like genuine concern—more like he was tossing her some spare change.]

[He seemed genuinely affected by the side chick just now. What is going on?]

[He’s definitely into her, I saw it. Ugh…]

I ignored the comments, pulled out my phone, and sent a message.

Early the next morning, I finished packing my luggage and carried it downstairs.

A black Maybach, completely out of place in the shabby neighborhood, was parked by the curb.

The door opened, and a woman in an elegant dress with flawless makeup stepped out in high heels.

“My sweet girl, you’ve been staying in this dump all this time? You really went out of your way to make life hard on yourself, didn’t you? It kills me to see this.”

She pulled me into a hug.

I mumbled “Mom,” then followed her into the car.

The car drove through the old streets, up a winding mountain road, and stopped in front of a mansion halfway up the hill.

I stood at the gate for a long time before walking inside.

In the living room, a man sat rigidly on the sofa, holding a book.

Mom nudged my waist, “What are you standing there for? Say hello to your Dad.”

My lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Forget it,” the man said, glancing up. “If she thinks she’s too good for me, why come back now?”

My throat felt tight, like stuffed with a damp cloth. I’d only learned the truth when I turned eighteen: my mother had been the mistress of the wealthy businessman Chayce Thorpe, and I was his illegitimate daughter.

After Chayce’s first wife died, Mom became his legal wife and moved into the Thorpe Mansion.

But I couldn’t accept it.

I’d made excuses every summer and winter vacation during college to avoid coming home. After graduating, I found a job and kept my distance from them.

Chayce had been furious and told Mom not to contact or support me anymore.

This phone call I had made to her was the first time in five years I had reached out.

Just as I gathered the courage to say “Dad,” another car pulled up at the gate.

Someone got out and walked into the living room, stopping short when they saw me.

“Carrie?”