Chapter 44

"Are you sure she went through it?"

Shirley nodded, "I saw Mrs. Jordan go upstairs last night, so I followed her. She said she was going to make soup for you but couldn't find a pen to write the recipe."

Because they were speaking softly, I could only hear these two sentences.

I couldn't help but grit my teeth. Shirley, just you wait. One day, I'll kick you out.

Brandon nodded to show he understood. After Shirley left, he turned back and looked at me cautiously.

I pretended to be sound asleep.

Suddenly, he walked to my bedside and picked up something from the nightstand.

I guessed he picked up the pen and looked at it, then gently put it back on the nightstand.

He patted me lightly, "Caroline, wake up. Aren't you going to see Brett off today?"

I pretended to be half-awake and looked at him, "You go, Brandon. I didn't sleep well last night."

I didn't know what expression Brandon had on his face, but he asked in a low voice, "Why didn't you sleep well?"

The moment Shirley discovered me yesterday, I had decided to tell the truth.

After all, I expected Shirley to betray me.

"Yesterday, Shirley startled me, and I couldn't sleep for a long time after that."

After I said that, Brandon didn't say anything more, and I pretended to be very sleepy and continued to sleep.

But I was indeed tired, as I really hadn't slept well last night.

Soon, I fell asleep for real and didn't even know when Brandon left.

When I woke up, it was almost noon. The soup recipe I wrote last night was still on the nightstand. I picked it up and prepared to go out.

Shirley saw me heading out and quickly chased after me, asking, "Mrs. Jordan, where are you going?"

I gave her a reproachful look, "Didn't I tell you yesterday? I'm going to buy some groceries to make soup for Brandon."

Shirley nodded and didn't say anything else.

Since I had already told this lie, I had to make it believable, or it would definitely arouse Brandon's suspicion.

After buying groceries at the market, I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen following the recipe I wrote last night. Finally, by the time Brandon came home in the evening, the soup was ready.

I covered his eyes excitedly and said, "Brandon, guess what surprise I prepared for you?"

I didn't know if Brandon's suspicion had lessened, but he played along with me.

"I don't know, Caroline. What did you prepare?"

I removed my hands, letting him see the soup I had prepared on the table.

"I noticed you've been on the phone a lot lately, and you always seem in a bad mood afterward. So I specifically learned this soup recipe. Try it and see if it's good."

Brandon's eyes flashed with a strange emotion, and he smiled and nodded, "Sure, I'll try your cooking."

He sat at the table, and Shirley served him the soup. After taking a sip, he began to praise, "Caroline, this soup is really good, just as good as a five-star hotel."

I knew he was acting, so I played along, "Is it good? I saw the recipe in the bathroom last night and quickly wrote it down. But I found out we didn't have a single pen in the house, so I had to go to your study to find one, and Shirley startled me."

Brandon's expression didn't change as he took another sip of the soup, "Really? I'll ask Shirley to buy more pens for the house so you won't have trouble finding one next time."

After dinner, I knew Brandon's suspicion hadn't lessened because he only drank the one bowl of soup Shirley served him. He didn't drink much at all.

I looked at the large pot of soup and couldn't help but feel heartbroken. All those good ingredients wasted.

Although Brandon was suspicious of me, he didn't do anything, and I got up the next day as usual to take Brett to school.

Brandon and I sat in the back seat, and at that moment, I received a call from Kathy.

"Caroline, there's a party. Are you coming?"

Since I was 'diagnosed with an illness,' I hadn't attended any charity parties. One reason was my health, and the other was that I had been so tormented that I didn't want to go out.

"I think I'll skip it."

"Elora will be there too." I glanced at Brandon, making sure he didn't hear what Kathy said, and nodded, "Okay, send me the details, and we'll meet up."

I hung up the phone, and Brandon opened his eyes, "Who was that?"

"Kathy. She wants me to attend a charity party. She said our group of friends hasn't seen me in a long time. I wasn't planning to go, but she insisted."

Brandon frowned, "But your health?"

I shook my head, "I'm fine. I was busy in the kitchen all afternoon yesterday and didn't feel tired. I should be able to attend."

With that, Brandon had nothing more to say, but he did remind me, "Be careful."

"By the way, you should see less of Kathy. I feel like she doesn't care about your health."

I sneered inwardly. If Kathy doesn't care about my health, who does? You?

If it weren't for you, my health wouldn't be like this.

But I didn't say that. Instead, I frowned at him, "What do you mean? I don't have many friends, only Kathy. What do you mean by telling me to stay away from her?"

Seeing that I was angry, Brandon suddenly laughed, "You misunderstood me. I meant your health hasn't fully recovered. If you keep going out with her, what if your condition worsens? Why not wait until you're fully recovered, and then you can go out as much as you want."

I didn't say anything, and he hugged me and coaxed, "Caroline, I'm going to work now. Don't be mad at me. Let's say I misspoke, okay?"

I watched Brandon walk out of the car and couldn't help but sneer.

It's all an excuse. He's just afraid Kathy will tell me the truth, but I already know.

A few days later, Kathy sent me the party invitation and asked me to meet her at her studio.

Although I was puzzled, I went anyway.

At Kathy's studio, several stylists were ready. When they saw me, Kathy eagerly sat me down in a chair.

"Today, you don't have to do anything else. Just make my good friend look beautiful."

Seeing Kathy's smug smile, I couldn't help but smile too. It seemed Kathy really understood me.

I had been worried about how to present myself at the party, and Kathy's approach was exactly what I liked.

I never liked showing my vulnerability to others. If I appeared at the party looking haggard, not only would others look down on me, but I would also look down on myself.

After the makeover, I couldn't help but marvel at the stylists' skills.

They had transformed me from a haggard, low-spirited person into a wealthy young lady.

Kathy looked at me with satisfaction and took me to the inner part of her studio.