Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 93: Zoe, Let’s Start Over

The phone kept vibrating. While my mother was still crying beside me and not paying attention, I discreetly put the phone into my bag without answering the call.

Earlier at the law firm, his frowning look was still fresh in my mind.

He didn’t say anything harsh, yet the hint of disdain in his eyes told me that I didn’t deserve and shouldn’t accept his help anymore.

After all, there is a world of difference between us. Even if he helps, it’s only him helping me, unilaterally.

What could I possibly offer in return?

And so, I let the phone keep vibrating in the bag without answering.

Julian Sinclair probably made the call out of courtesy or due to my grandparents.

I didn’t answer, and he didn’t call a second time.

The phone went silent, and the only sound left in the car was Mrs. Ellison’s stifled sobbing, which was suffocating.

I sighed lightly, my tone a bit dejected: "Mom, let me take you home first. As for my brother’s issue, I’ll think of a solution."

Speaking of which, I remembered Mrs. Ellison’s initial words and said word by word: "I’ve always kept in mind the gratitude for The Ellison Family’s upbringing. I won’t be ungrateful."

Mrs. Ellison looked at me awkwardly: "Zoe, mom... that’s not what I meant, don’t take it to heart."

I didn’t say anything, just stepped on the gas pedal.

...

The Ellison Family.

As I accompanied Mrs. Ellison inside, I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the person sitting on the sofa.

Timothy Xavier, wearing a khaki trench coat, looked refined, his cold gaze falling on us.

It’s hard to imagine that this is the man who has made ruthless decisions in business and once drove a competitor’s family to despair.

Anger surged up in me as I glaringly looked at him: "Timothy Xavier, how do you still have the face to come to The Ellison Family?"

Timothy’s face darkened, and his black eyes grew increasingly complex.

Just then, dad personally came over with tea, eagerly trying to smooth things over: "Zoe, you’ve misunderstood. Timothy is invited by me, don’t talk to him like that."

After saying this, Mr. Ellison smiled at Timothy and said, "Timothy, try this new tea I’ve got."

Knowing full well this man is the one who sent his son to prison, Mr. Ellison still lowered himself like this to speak to a younger generation.

I couldn’t help but feel heartache and sorrow.

And Mrs. Ellison beside me suddenly rushed over, grabbing Timothy’s arm and crying, "Timothy, please, have mercy, let Declan go! He knows he’s wrong, can you let him out? Even if I take the punishment for him!"

Timothy gently freed himself from her grip, and both Mr. Ellison and I quickly stopped her, pulling her back.

"Dad, Mom, please go back to your room, I want to talk to Timothy alone."

I didn’t want the family’s dignity shattered in front of Timothy, so I had the parents leave first.

Mr. Ellison nodded, taking Mrs. Ellison upstairs.

The living room was left with only me and Timothy.

I looked at him, the anger I had just suppressed mixed with grievance, as I said with a touch of self-mockery: "Timothy Xavier, you’ve succeeded. Driving my brother and The Ellison Family to this point isn’t just to see me bow down to you? You’ve won."

Timothy frowned deeply, his black eyes flickering with emotions I couldn’t understand, speaking in a deep voice: "Zoe Ellison, am I really this kind of person in your mind? You think I found someone to beat your brother?"

I didn’t respond.

Whether it is or isn’t, what difference does it make?

Isn’t all this stemming from him?

It’s as if my silence stung him, his Adam’s apple moved, and he spoke with tension, "The news of your brother being beaten in there, I just heard from your dad. Zoe Ellison, I didn’t do this."

I curled my lips, saying, "It doesn’t matter. Just like before when you misunderstood and wronged me, the truth never mattered. I just want to know, how can I get you to let my brother go?"

He clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white, as if trying to restrain something.

Then, he coldly said, "I said I could drop the charges. But you need to withdraw the divorce suits now and come back to be Mrs. Xavier, we’ll start over."

I could never understand what Timothy Xavier truly wanted? What was he trying to do?

He didn’t love me at all, so why restart?

The only answer I could think of was that a man like Timothy Xavier wouldn’t be satisfied being the defendant in a divorce suit.

He probably felt that if someone should be dumped, it should be him dumping me.

I nodded decisively, "Okay, I agree with you."

A divorce suit isn’t something you can file only once in a lifetime.

Once my brother’s matter is completely settled, I’ll sue again.

...

Two days later, I withdrew the divorce suit.

Timothy Xavier indeed kept his promise; although he dropped the charges, my brother’s case is criminal, and the lawyer says it will take at least a month to process before he can be bailed out.

When Mr. Ellison called me, I was standing in the living room of The Xavier Manor.

He said excitedly, "Thanks to Timothy for not holding a grudge against your brother this time. Zoe, are things going well with Timothy? Mom and dad don’t know how to thank you both?"

"..."

After finishing the call with Mr. Ellison, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The Ellison Family has calmed down. I’ve repaid the gratitude for raising me.

Yet the heavy feeling in my heart didn’t lighten at all.

Because the transaction between me and Timothy Xavier had just begun.

At this moment, Timothy looped his arms around me from behind, disregarding my stiff body, resting his chin lightly on my hair, softly speaking, "Your brother should be able to come out in a while. See, everyone gets along, isn’t this good?"

I only felt irony.

Translating Timothy Xavier’s words meant: If you listen to me, The Ellison Family can live peacefully; if you don’t, none of the people around you can live well!

I took a deep breath, calmly and firmly stepping away from his embrace, coldly saying, "Yes, dad told me. Thank you."

He seemed displeased by my actions, yet he still stroked my cheek and said, "We are husband and wife, why be so polite? I also want to thank you for giving me a chance to make it up to you."

The feeling of helplessness surged up like a tide, Timothy Xavier’s gentleness now felt like a beast holding back its temper.

Despite his fangs almost being exposed, he still pretended to be gentle to coax others.

Yet I was no longer the Zoe Ellison of the past who would unwrap his beautiful candy paper only to consume the poison.

Nanny Lowell came in with two workers, smiling as she reported, "Sir, the wedding photos have been re-done as you requested and just delivered."

Timothy’s face blossomed with a bit of a smile, his tone satisfied: "Take them to the master bedroom, hang them back where they were."

Nanny Lowell saw us like this and thought we reconciled, quickly responding, "Okay."

I looked down at the floor, my heart calm as a dead lake, without a ripple.

No matter how refined the wedding photos are, what’s the point of putting them back in place?

Timothy seemed oblivious to my coldness, casually saying, "Let’s return that house outside, I’ll accompany you to move tomorrow."

I raised my eyes, immediately declining, "No need. There aren’t many things, just a suitcase, I’ve already brought it here today."

He didn’t insist, merely gave a laugh, saying, "Well, whatever you need, let the mall deliver directly."

Then he called a servant, "Take madam’s suitcase to the master bedroom, get everything organized."

The servant was about to act, I quickly said, "Wait."

Then I looked at Timothy and asked, "Do you truly want to start over with me?"

He smiled, "Isn’t my sincerity enough? You know canceling your brother’s suit this time, the board members were very upset, how much pressure I had to bear?"

I wasn’t persuaded by these words, playing guerrilla warfare with him, "If you truly want to restart, could you give me some time? I need to slowly digest those past things. Right now... I can’t temporarily move back to the master bedroom with you. Can I stay in the original guest room?"

The master bedroom has been defiled by Timothy Xavier and Serena Sawyer, and you’re asking me to sleep there? I’d have to throw up at least once a day!

Timothy’s gaze lingered on my face for a moment, as if he realized something, and he rarely offered an explanation: "Zoe, nothing sordid happened between Serena and me, not once. If it’s the bed you’re uncomfortable with, I can have it replaced right now."

I was slightly stunned.

Who can tell if what Timothy says is true or false?

A man and a woman alone in a room, on the same bed for so long, claiming nothing happened, is laughable.

But clearly, now is not the time to dwell on it.

Moreover, who he’s with and what happens between them, I’ve long ceased to care.

I have to play nice with him to get through these days smoothly, and once my brother’s procedures are sorted, I can appeal for divorce again.

So I said calmly, "I believe you. But right now, I really need time to reconsider this marriage, and when I’m ready, I’ll return to the master bedroom."

Timothy stared at me for a few seconds, eventually not pushing, and nodded: "Okay."

A faint sense of relief washed over me, and without saying more, I quickly grabbed my suitcase and turned towards the guest room.

...

At dinner time, most of the dishes on the table were my favorites.

Timothy was still working in the study then, and Nanny Lowell smiled warmly at me, saying: "Ma’am, it’s what the master specifically instructed. You see, there was once not a single meat dish to be seen on this table when he was here. Now, he must have realized your goodness and seen through that little seductress. So, he wants to make amends."

Saying this, Nanny Lowell sighed: "The master really has changed!"

I smiled slightly, well aware of how difficult it is to change a person’s ingrained nature.

It’s never been me who could change Timothy Xavier.

At this moment, Timothy had finished his work and joined us at the dining table.

The servants had already moved his chair.

He said to Nanny Lowell, "Madam has anemia, so in the future, prepare more nourishing dishes."

"Sure, sir, I’ve noted it down."

Nanny Lowell smiled again, much like a family member watching couples in a TV show with delight.

I felt a faint melancholy in my heart; Timothy’s smiles and concerns for me today seemed to exceed all those in the past three years combined.

Unfortunately, late affection is something I no longer need.

At this moment, I suddenly noticed that Timothy had a wedding ring on his left ring finger.

This ring was something he had worn only once on our wedding day.

Later, when I asked him why he didn’t wear it, he said he wasn’t used to wearing things and found it restrictive.

I didn’t think much of it then; I even wore my wedding ring every day, loving to watch the diamond sparkle in the sunlight, under the lights.

Later, when I became pregnant and bloated, the ring no longer fit.

After the child was born, he told me the child had died, and since then, he was exceptionally cold to me. Subconsciously, my expectations for this marriage grew less and less, and I stopped wearing that ring.

Later, I sold the tokens of my love, the ring, and jewelry he had given me, and used the money to pay for my mom’s medical bills.

I truly never expected that the moment he wore this ring again would be when our marriage was nearing its end.

Then suddenly, Timothy asked me, "Where’s your wedding ring? Find it and wear it after dinner. Didn’t you always like shiny things?"

"Sold it."

I said bluntly.

Timothy’s hand holding the soup spoon suddenly froze, displeasure evident in his brows, he asked coldly: "When did you sell it?"

"When I sold the tokens of love. Your mom implied that you’d no longer cover my mom’s medical bills. So, I sold everything that could be sold."

I explained clearly, and he couldn’t blame me for it.

Timothy indeed had nothing more to say.

His previously somewhat gentle expression now turned cold as ice, and he ate in silence.

After finishing, he went upstairs without a word, ignoring me completely.

Oddly, I felt a sense of relief; him ignoring me now, minding his own business, was the most liberating thing for me.

Conversely, his presence would feel like a looming threat, pressuring me greatly.

After dinner, I returned to the guest room and found several missed calls on my phone, all from Victoria Monroe.

I called her back.

"Zoe, you finally called back! I urgently need help! Our company has been swamped lately, and I’m at my wit’s end. There’s an opportunity for an internal recommendation now; the trial period is only two months, and you’ll be confirmed if you pass. Would you like to come?"

I paused slightly.

A job would be good, that way I’ll have legitimate reasons to leave early and come back late. It’s better than staying in this villa and under Timothy’s watchful eye all day.

"Sure, I’ll go."

I agreed.

Victoria was overjoyed.

I suddenly remembered to ask, "By the way, does your company have a cafeteria?"

Victoria laughed and said, "Yes, and the cafeteria food is delicious!"

Does this mean from now on, I could have all three meals at the company?

I was surprised at how much I resisted Timothy, to this extent.

Eating, sleeping, even just glancing at him—I had no desire to look.

After the call with Victoria, she sent the company’s address to my WeChat.

...

Early the next morning, I got up, but Timothy woke up even earlier than me.

He’s either running or at the temple in the morning.

In any case, he doesn’t sleep in.

Thus, when I was about to leave, I happened to encounter him coming back from running outside.

He frowned at me, asking, "Where are you going?"

"To work."

I replied without batting an eyelid.

Timothy said calmly: "It’s only seven. Have breakfast first, then I’ll give you a ride."

"No need, there’s a cafeteria at the company."

After speaking, without caring about his reaction, I grabbed my bag and left the villa.

...

At the company, Victoria first gave me a brief tour of the company structure, then took me to meet the chief editor.

The chief editor scanned through my resume, his eyes carrying approval: "Reporter Ellison, I’ve read those hot-news articles you wrote before, impressive work. Welcome to our team!"

"Thank you."

I smiled slightly, saying, "I will adapt to the work as quickly as possible."

The chief editor nodded, "Recently, we’ve had a lot on our plate, so it might be a bit demanding."

Saying this, she handed over a set of materials, "This is your first assignment, take a look."

I took the materials and was suddenly stunned.

It was an exclusive interview with Lawyer Julian Sinclair.