Chapter 12
It was rare for Kenyon to return to the Burt’s mansion.
His parents, Lawrence Burt and Sheila Burt, had not seen him for a long time, so they were overjoyed. Sheila bustled about, eager to prepare something delicious for Kenyon.
But only Kenyon himself felt numb in his mind. He sat on the sofa, his eyes vacant. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to get married anymore.”
The once lively Burt’s mansion instantly fell silent.
Lawrence grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it at Kenyon. The glass struck Kenyon’s forehead heavily, and blood immediately began to flow. In his ears was Lawrence’s nearly furious voice, “You must be out of your mind! Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that secretary? I don’t care what you do outside, but there’s only one rule: come home and get married as you’re supposed to.”
Kenyon’s parents had also married for the sake of family alliance. After more than thirty years, their marriage resembled a respectful partnership more than a romance. A thought grew wildly in his heart: he didn’t want a marriage like this, nor did he want his own children to have such a marriage.
With the angry shouts still echoing behind him, Kenyon returned home.
Perhaps it was the wind, but Kenyon’s head began to throb and ache. Out of habit, he groped for the medicine box and searched for some pills, only to find that all the medicine inside had expired.
Back when Marlene was around, the medicine box at home was always well–stocked with the necessary medicines, and she would even
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thoughtfully label the correct dosages.
295 Wouchers
Kenyon dumped out all the expired medicine from the box in one go, then braced himself and poured a cup of hot water.
“Marlene, Marlene?” He called out her name twice out of habit, but only empty echoes answered him–there was no response.
Kenyon let out a self–mocking laugh and unlocked his phone, only to realize that the message he had sent her early that morning still hadn’t been answered.
He dialed her number again and again, but it never went through. Kenyon even considered driving straight to Marlene’s house to look for her right
now.
But then he realized he didn’t even know her home address.
Kenyon ended up sleeping on the sofa the whole night. The next day, his fever subsided, but his throat was still painfully tight.
He rubbed his sore eyes and went to the office.
When he passed by Marlene’s desk, he noticed it was still empty.
Marlene had never been late for work, but this was already the second
time.
“Where’s Marlene?”
An employee nearby gave him a strange look. “Mr. Burt, don’t you know? Marlene has resigned.”
Resigned? When did that happen?
Kenyon recalled the first time Marlene had mentioned resigning to him. He had never agreed to it–who approved her resignation?
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Kenyon rushed straight to the HR department. “Marlene resigned?”
HR was startled by Kenyon’s sudden entrance. An employee resigning- why was the boss reacting so strongly?
“When did this happen?”
HR hurriedly pulled up the application. “Last month. Marlene’s resignation was already processed and finalized.”
Last month–that was exactly when Marlene had first brought up resigning to him. Kenyon had always thought it was a joke. He never believed Marlene would leave, never thought she would actually go. But he hadn’t expected Marlene to leave so decisively, so cleanly.
It turned out that the one who couldn’t let go wasn’t Marlene–it was him.
Kenyon grabbed his car keys and headed out. Now, there was only one thought in his mind: to find Marlene and ask her why she resigned.
But when the car actually started, Kenyon was left with nothing but confusion. He didn’t know where Marlene lived, didn’t know her friends, didn’t know any other way to contact her. The connections between them were pitifully few.
Suddenly, a name came to Kenyon’s mind—Thelma. Without a moment’s hesitation, he went to find Thelma.
Kenyon’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice harsh. “Tell me, was it you who forced Marlene to resign?”
Upon hearing that Marlene had resigned, a mocking smile appeared on Thelma’s face. She calmly brushed Kenyon’s hand aside and said, “Kenyon, if I remember correctly, your company’s resignation process requires at least a month’s notice. At that time, I hadn’t even met Marlene yet.”
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“Kenyon, it was Marlene herself who didn’t want you anymore.”
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Lateefa Khanam is a spirited writer who finds freedom in horse riding. She cherishes her mare and the newborn foal, calling them her little happy family.
