All That's Left Are Memories

Chapter 6 Last Bit of Help

He dragged her toward a private lounge.

The lighting inside was dim, and the faint aroma of coffee hung in the air.

As the conversation unfolded, Cynthia slowly began to understand why Russell had been so desperate.

He was trying to secure a critical project, and the key decision-maker, Benjamin Dudley, was an old friend of Cynthia's father.

The moment Benjamin saw Cynthia, his demeanor shifted to warm familiarity. "Oh! Are you from Cynthia's family? Well, that certainly changes things."

Throughout the meeting, Russell played the role of the devoted, doting husband to perfection. When Cynthia let out the faintest sneeze, he immediately draped his jacket over her shoulders.

But Cynthia had never been good at pretending. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't smile.

And in that moment, she finally understood.

He had brought her here because she was useful.

"Mr. Dudley," she said suddenly.

"There's really no need to make any special exceptions because of me. Please just evaluate the proposal the way you normally would."

Russell quickly made an excuse and almost dragged her out of the room.

"Cynthia, I already acknowledged you as my wife in front of everyone tonight," Russell snapped. "What more do you want from me?"

They ended up in an empty stairwell. His voice echoed off the concrete walls.

He looked effortlessly sharp in his tailored black suit. His shirt collar was slightly open, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms.

He stood there with his hands on his hips, towering over Cynthia, where she had shrunk back against the wall. Impatience burned in his eyes.

"Whatever problem you have, couldn't we talk about it at home?" he continued. "Why do you always have to cause trouble when something important is on the line?"

He stepped closer. "You're putting on a sour face in there. Are you trying to tell the whole world that our marriage is falling apart?"

The air felt heavy.

Cynthia kept her head down, too frightened to meet his eyes. Tears welled up, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Russell shut his eyes in frustration and took a deep breath. Then suddenly, he slammed his fist into the wall beside her. The impact sent a dull vibration through the concrete.

"Say something!" he barked.

Cynthia flinched violently. "I'm not stupid, Russell," she choked out. "I know why you brought me here. You only wanted to use me..."

She yanked the jacket from her shoulders and threw it straight at his face. Then she turned and ran.

Russell watched her stumble down the hallway. He kicked the wall with a hollow thud.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in severe irritation and immediately dialed his phone. "Jessica... Cynthia ran out. Go find her and try to calm her down. That project means a lot to me, you know that."

Not long after hanging up, Jessica found Cynthia in the hotel's back garden. Cynthia sat alone on a stone bench, wiping tears from her cheeks. Jessica approached slowly, her heels clicking against the pavement, her dress swaying gracefully. "Ms. Parra, I..."

"You don't have to waste your breath," Cynthia interrupted coldly. "Go tell him I'm not helping him."

Jessica suddenly laughed. "You misunderstood. I'm actually here to persuade you to leave Mr. Shelton."

She leaned forward slightly, her voice soft but sharp. "Can't you see it? I'm the one who belongs by his side. Do you know how much criticism and trouble your existence has caused Mr. Shelton all these years?"

"He said that if you won't even provide him this last bit of help, then you truly have no use to him at all." Jessica's smile turned colder.

"Because you are too stupid. Do you know how disgusted he is by you every time he comes to me?"

"He says you're like a fool who never grew up." She tilted her head.