Second Chance: Marrying into Wealth Chapter 261

Before they left, I planned to take them on a proper tour of Starlight City.

Honestly, it had been ages since I last explored Starlight City. Ever since my parents passed away, I mostly stayed at home.

I was mapping out our route when Cassius mentioned he had lived in Starlight City years ago. Things must have changed a lot since then.

But being locals, we managed to navigate the city using Cassius's marked map, and I accompanied him on a tour.

After dropping Cassius and Magnus off, Christopher mentioned there was one more place he wanted to visit and offered to drive me there.

Today, he had been a perfect gentleman, patiently accompanying us on our shopping trip despite his busy schedule. So, I agreed to go with him, but I never expected him to bring me here.

As the car window rolled down and I saw the familiar gates, I immediately lost my temper.

"Who gave you the right to decide this? I never said I wanted to come here. Turn around, drive back!"

I was agitated, almost out of control.

Christopher didn't get angry at my outburst. Instead, he spoke in a calm, deep voice, "Melinda, you're an adult now. You need to learn to move forward and not live in the past. Some things are inevitable."

I knew he was right.

But I couldn't do it. No one knew how many nights I had spent struggling. I needed sleeping pills just to get some rest.

During the day, I could temporarily forget the pain by keeping busy with work. But as soon as I had any downtime, the loneliness would creep in.

Christopher's words hit a nerve, and I reacted like a cat with its fur standing on end.

"Melinda, Lawrence is dead. You avenged your parents. You should have come to pay your respects and bring peace to their souls a long time ago," Christopher said earnestly, making me feel ashamed.

His words broke down my last defense.

I thought I was strong, but I wasn't.

I couldn't face my parents' deaths and couldn't forgive myself, so I chose to avoid it. Every night, I felt anxious.

I might even be suffering from depression, needing psychological counseling. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had two near-death experiences due to mental breakdowns.

At that moment, Christopher's words made my tears flow uncontrollably.

Step by step, I walked to my parents' graves. Seeing their familiar faces on the tombstones, I knelt down, pressing my face against their pictures, repeatedly saying, "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"Mom, Dad, I miss you so much."

Lawrence had managed to deceive me because he knew me well.

Before he died, he had Beatrice deliver some messages to me.

They seemed like confessions, calling me weak, but I heard more mockery in his words.

Those words were like daggers, stabbing my soul, making it even harder to face my parents.

I didn't know how long I cried at their graves, how long I knelt, or how many times I bowed. Christopher watched from the side, not stopping me this time.

Maybe this was what I needed to truly release my pent-up emotions and start to heal.

After calming down, I felt a lot better, but my forehead was bruised and bleeding, very noticeable.

Christopher drove me home, stopping at a pharmacy to buy some antiseptics and painkillers.

As he applied the medicine, my tender skin stung, making me wince.

"Bear with it!" Christopher didn't scold me for hurting myself. Instead, he gently blew on my wound while carefully applying the medicine.

His breath on my face tickled, distracting me from the pain.

"Thanks," I whispered gratefully.

Christopher snorted, "You can vent however you want, but you better hope you don't scar. Otherwise..."

I didn't know what he would do.

I could tell he was angry, but it felt like he was more upset about my injury than if it had happened to him.

But he cared about me, so I didn't dare provoke him further.

On the way home, Christopher told me, "You're injured. Use it as an excuse to avoid visiting the Collins family."

With such a visible injury, I could easily refuse their invitation without feeling guilty.

But I heard Marlowe was going. Marlowe was a bit naive, and since Christopher cared about her, I reminded him.

"Mr. Collins, Marlowe got an invite from Mrs. Faye Collins."

Christopher glanced at me and then said firmly, "She won't be going."

Later, I found out from Paula that Marlowe's boss had sent her out of town for an interview. She had begged her boss to let her stay, but he refused.

The last time there was a scandal involving false news in the magazine, it was mostly because of Marlowe. Although her boss didn't fire her, he was clearly unhappy with her. When she refused the assignment, he practically yelled at her.

Marlowe had always been arrogant, so most of her colleagues were glad to see her get scolded.

I ran into Paula on the way home with Christopher.

Sensing Christopher's low mood, I found an excuse to leave with Paula.

Seeing my injured forehead, Paula was worried but didn't press for details. She was my best friend and understood me well.

I only mentioned visiting my parents' graves, and she didn't ask why I ended up like this.

She handed me some mail from my new landlord, saying there were several letters.

Most of the letters were from people Lawrence had helped with his personal account. He was quite knowledgeable, so he had some fans who admired him and wrote to him.

"From now on, have the current tenant handle any new mail. I don't want anything to do with Lawrence anymore," I told Paula.

She supported my decision and agreed to my request.

When I moved out to avoid harassment from the Phillips family, Paula helped me sell the house.

Thinking about the letters related to Lawrence, I planned to burn them all at home to avoid any reminders.

As I was burning the letters, a familiar name caught my eye.

It was Lawrence's handwriting. He had beautiful penmanship, which I used to admire when I liked him.

But now, seeing his handwriting made me feel disgusted.

He had written a letter to himself. What was this about?

I thought he was being mysterious, but a voice inside urged me to check the contents.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I picked up the letter.

Inside, there was no handwritten note, just a memory card.

What secret was he hiding, or what message did he want to convey?

Was it because I refused to see him before he died, and he was using this method to communicate?

Since I had already opened it, I decided to see what was inside.

I inserted the memory card into my computer, and soon a video started playing.