She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 394: Indifference Kelvin felt an indescribable sense of accomplishment as he watched her enjoy her meal so heartily. A contented smile, reminiscent of an old father, appeared on his face. He casually pulled out a tissue and gracefully wiped his hands, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on Cheyenne. Unconsciously, a trace of indulgent smile played on his lips.

Unable to resist, he reminded her, "Take it slow." "Mm-hmm," Cheyenne responded.

Feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze, Cheyenne turned her body towards the other side and hastily stuffed more food into her mouth. Within minutes, she had finished the bowl of porridge, but she was still only half full. Licking her rosy lips, her hands cradling the empty bowl, she looked at him with her deep, watery eyes, saying nothing.

Kelvin couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. He reached out with a large hand and gently stroked her long hair, showing an inexplicable tenderness. Startled, she widened her eyes and hurriedly moved away from his touch. With narrowed eyes and a cold tone, she said, "Don't touch me." It seemed that she truly disliked him.

Kelvin felt an indescribable frustration, and awkwardly withdrew his hand. "Sorry, I only wanted to help you fix your hair, as it was a bit messy." Her hair was messy? Cheyenne waved it off, resembling an elderly man, and thrusted the bowl into his hands, saying, "Another one." This tthe porridge cwithout chopped green onions, allowing Cheyenne to eat cozily. Kelvin, however, felt a bit regretful that he couldn't continue helping her pick out the green onions. While eating, Cheyenne brought up the matter and asked Kelvin directly, "Why did you go to TWILIGHT?" Instead of answering her question directly, Kelvin countered, "What about you? Why did you go to TWILIGHT?" The dark side of the world had nothing to do with her. Though Cheyenne was willful and exuberant, she had never done anything too outrageous. She shouldn't have any ties with TWILIGHT. Cheyenne hesitated for a moment. After satisfying her hunger and thirst, her craving for cigarettes emerged. She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table.

"Givea cigarette first,” she demanded.

Kelvin furrowed his brows fiercely. "You, a young girl, why are you smoking?" He remembered that she used to not smoke.

"A young girl?" Cheyenne sneered, stood up, and boldly placed her knees on Kelvin's lap. Looking down at him with dominance, a hint of mockery in her tone, she exhaled softly, “I stopped being a girl a long tago. Or have you forgotten, Mr. Foley, that you were the one who turnedfrom a girl into a woman?" Kelvin didn't need to lift his head to see her fair face. The coldness and disdain in her eyes ignited an intense desire to conquer within him. Cheyenne's audacious demeanor somehow made her unbearably attractive.

Just as he was about to reach out and embrace her delicate waist, she swiftly twisted her slim waist and skillfully avoided his touch, returning to her seat on the sofa. Between her beautiful fingers was a cigarette, which she placed between her luscious lips. With her other hand, she expertly flicked the lighter.

The deep blue flreflected in her dark, shining eyes. With a provocative and self-satisfied smile, she raised one leg, crossing it over the other. From Kelvin's perspective, the high-slit dress elongated her leg's contours, giving off a lazy and enchanting allure.

Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, Cheyenne then placed the lighter back on the table and leaned slightly forward, revealing her curves.

"Thank you for the cigarette, Mr. Foley." The cigarette was something he had taken out earlier when his arm was aching. But he quickly regretted it when he thought of Cheyenne sleeping. He didn't want her to smell the smoke. So, he never lit it and tossed it back into his suit pocket.

Little did he expect her eyes to be so sharp. Her seductive act earlier had merely been a ploy to take the cigarette from his pocket. Why did his heart race in that moment? Kelvin coldly watched as the pale blue smoke enveloped her petite face, blurring her features. In this moment, Cheyenne felt more distant and unfamiliar than ever before.

In his mind, she was a somewhat bossy yet adorable girl who liked to laugh. She was mischievous and caused trouble, but when she returned home, she was obedient and well-behaved, sticking to him like a lazy kitten, her chatty mouth always rambling on.

The only tthey had been close, perhaps... was during those three days at TWILIGHT.

He was beginning to miss those three dark days, where he could shamelessly gaze at her, hold her in his arms, and breathe in her scent.

"When did you start?" he asked casually, as he put away the lighter.

Cheyenne leaned her head back against the sofa, her thoughts somewhat scattered. Unsure of what she was thinking, her faint voice sounded somewhat weary.

"I don't remember anymore. It's been too long. I think it was when I was fourteen. I was stabbed back then, and the wound was unbearable. I heard that smoking could ease the pain, so I learned." "At sixteen, I wanted to marry you. I heard that you liked ladies like Miss Berry, so I quit."

"After losing the child, I fell into severe depression for half a year, even contemplated suicide,” she said casually. "But Mr. Lara toldto smoke when I felt sad! So, I started again. Although he's stingy, he only allowsto smoke occasionally." Her words were light and effortless, but Kelvin's heart ached as if it had been torn open. He looked at Cheyenne, who was blowing smoke, unable to imagine that the once optimistic and cheerful girl had suffered from depression.

During that period, he was busy and didn't chfor about half a year. The thought of going back hto face his grandfather's pressure, coupled with Abbie's preparations for her dance training institution, kept him busy. He neglected Cheyenne.

He ran his fingers over the metallic lighter, feeling its cold and smooth texture, wanting to ask her how she managed to overcit. But he didn't have the courage to hear the answer. Was it Omari or Benson? In any case, it wasn't him, Kelvin. It wasn't him, the husband who should have been by her side.

"Cheyenne, I'm sorry," he finally spoke after a long silence. His voice was hoarse and low, reaching Cheyenne's ears. Those words made her eyes stightly red filling her heart with a sourness. Fortunately, the thin smoke from the cigarette veiled her emotions. Cheyenne gave a light laugh and looked into Kelvin's eyes with a steady gaze. Her mood was surprisingly calm. "It doesn't matter anymore. It's all in the past," she said. As her words fell, Kelvin suddenly felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Being indifferent was more agonizing than being hated. He would rather have Cheyenne hate him than let her forget.