Whispers of Destiny His Belated Love

Chapter 5 

The whole ride was dead silent, the tension so thick Jason felt like he couldn’t even shift gears without causing a scene. 

It wasn’t until they pulled into the driveway of the suburban villa that he let out a huge sigh of relief and got out. to open the car door. 

Rosemary wasn’t the type to put on airs like Maxwell, and she disliked being waited on hand and foot. Just as she was about to open the door herself, Maxwell chimed in nonchalantly, “I like busty girls?” 

Rosemary nearly choked on her own breath. She’d totally forgotten about that jab, and his comment was nothing short of slander. Who the heck knew what he was really into?! 

She turned around to catch Maxwell’s gaze drifting just below her collarbone, drenched in what could be construed as contempt, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional. That look, Rosemary interpreted as disdain. “Aren’t all guys wired to like big ones?” 

So after three years of marriage, he couldn’t even muster basic desire, yet Victoria’s figure was nothing to write home about either. 

Maxwell frowned, “I don’t like them.” 

But Rosemary just smirked, a dangerous kind of pretty that could snatch the soul out of any regular dude. Maxwell, however, remained unfazed, his eyes and brows as still as water. 

She said, ‘Whether you like them or not is hell none of my business, but I prefer big and passionate, which by the way, is the main reason I’m divorcing you.” 

Instantly, Maxwell’s face turned stormy, and the atmosphere in the car froze over visibly. The car wasn’t exactly soundproof, so Jason, standing outside, caught every word of their exchange, now sweating bullets as he saw Maxwell’s temper rising and, under pressure, opened the car door. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Templeton, we’re home.” 

Rosemary stepped out first to see Pearl emerging from the villa with a gentle smile, taking her hand and leading her inside, “Rosemary, I had Wendy stew some soup for you and even added some beautifying herbs.” Maxwell, still in the car, was utterly ignored. 

Once inside, Pearl whispered, “Did Maxwell bully you?” 

She’d seen the news from yesterday and, worried about Rosemary feeling upset, had asked them to stay the night. 

“Pearl, about him and me.” 

She wanted to spill the beans about her divorce plans, but Pearl cut her off, “If that kid bullies you, just tell me. I’ll get his dad to whip him with a belt! Don’t put up with his nonsense. I’ll send you a menu later – full of foods he hates. Start ordering them for him from tomorrow for a whole month. I’ve also told Christ not to make any special meals for Maxwell – otherwise, he’s fired!” 

Pearl didn’t even mention Victoria to avoid upsetting Rosemary. 

Wendy approached with a shawl, “Mrs. Pearl Templeton, you were feeling unwell earlier; why go out without a shawl? Mrs. Rosemary Templeton, you really must talk some sense into her; she takes her health too lightly.” And just like that, Rosemary’s opportunity to bring up divorce was lost. 

“Pearl, what’s bothering you? Did you call the doctor?” 

Pearl waved it off, “Ah, it’s just an old ailment, it’ll get better with some rest. No need to drag a doctor out here in the middle of the night.” 

It was indeed getting late. After finishing the soup with Rosemary and slipping a trinket onto her wrist, Pearl went upstairs to bed. 

Before leaving, she shot Maxwell a death glare, “If you don’t sweet–talk Rosemary tonight, I’ll beat you up!” 

Maxwell hadn’t spoken since he got back, and yet he was still taking fire? 

Maxwell and Rosemary’s room was on the second floor, and knowing they’d be returning, Wendy had already changed the bedding. 

Rosemary went to get her pajamas ready for a shower, but when she opened the wardrobe, her usual cotton PJs were gone, replaced by a variety of sexy silk V–neck nightgowns and even a couple of cosplay lingerie 

sets. 

Pearl’s desire for grandchildren was no secret to anyone in the villa. From the moment they got married, preparations for a baby room began, with heaps of toys and clothes for both boys and girls steadily arriving. These clothes were yet another strategy to help the couple conceive. Rosemary couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for her. If Pearl knew about their sexless marriage of three years, would she kick Maxwell, all show and no go, 

to the curb? 

Turning back to Maxwell, she saw him looking at the wardrobe full of clothes, his gaze as indifferent as ever. He glanced at her sideways and remarked, “These don’t suit you.” 

Rosemary picked out the most conservative piece, but before she could reach for it, Maxwell tossed her one of his shirts, “Wear this.” 

Rosemary caught it, knowing his tall, lean build meant his shirt would cover her to the knees, certainly a better choice than any of those odd nightgowns. Without fuss, she took the shirt to the bathroom. 

By law, she was entitled to half of everything Maxwell owned. Rounding up, that shirt was hers now. 

After a shower and blow–drying her hair, Rosemary stepped out to find Maxwell on the balcony, smoking. The thin veil of smoke softened his sharp features, 

Maybe it was just her imagination, but his eyes seemed to deepen when they landed on her, though the moment was fleeting. 

Maxwell put out his cigarette and came inside, passing her by without a word and heading for the bathroom. Rosemary was used to it by now, numb to the heartache, and felt nothing. 

Shortly after, there was a knock on the door. It was Wendy with a bowl of soup, “Mrs. Rosemary Templeton, this is a soup Mrs. Pearl Templeton personally made for Mr. Maxwell Templeton. Make sure he drinks it; don’t let her effort go to waste. She even burned her hand making it. She’s tough as she appears but actually is caring. She didn’t say anything downstairs but she’s still worried about him, afraid he’s not eating well. Now she insisted I bring it up.” 

“Okay.” 

Rosemary totally got it after all, it was her own son she was worried about. 

Maxwell finished showering quickly and came out to the sight of soup on the coffee table. Rosemary uttered, “Pearl made it herself, have some. 

Maxwell glanced at it, remained silent, and showed no interest in drinking. Seeing him like this, and thinking about what Wendy said, plus all the heartache from him not eating her cooking over the years, Rosemary suddenly felt a bit miffed, “Maxwell, Pearl burned her hands making soup for you, and you’re just gonna blow off her effort like that?” 

The phrase “blow off her effort” struck a chord with Maxwell, as if there was a hidden meaning behind it 

He looked at her, half–smile creeping onto his lips, and asked, “Do you really want me to drink it?” 

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