Chapter 886 What Happiness Feels Like
Chapter 886 What Happiness Feels Like
He pulled out the ring. The diamond still shone and it was the same as it had been, but the person who
once owned it was no longer there.
He tilted his head and finished the wine in his glass, then put it down heavily. With a snap, the bottom
of the glass clicked on the table.
That year, he had this ring custom-made to propose to her, and it was not the most expensive ring for
her. She came from a wealthy family and had many precious pieces of jewellery.
But after wearing the ring, she never took it off again.
She said, "Stanford, I love it."
She had a happy face.
"I'm going to wear it for the rest of my life." She threw her arms around his neck and said, "Stanford, I
love you. I believe in you and would give anything for you."
Stanford looked at her simple, beautiful smile and asked, "Why?"
Amanda snuggled into his arms, "To love each other is to trust each other and give to each other, isn't
it?"
Because that was what her parents did.
At the time, he was dismissive and thought she was a flower in a greenhouse, who had no
understanding of human suffering, let alone of the human heart. How could there be unreserved love in
this world?
His father and mother had also loved each other, but what happened to them in the end?
Betrayal, abandonment, divorce ...
He did not believe in her love and did not believe that there was the kind of love in this world that she
spoke of.
He didn't believe it!
"But why was I so sad when you left? My heart aches as I look at your relics?"
He squeezed the glass tightly in his hand while it was almost crushed!
Buzz ...
The phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated, but he didn't bother to look at it and just propped his face
up with one hand. Tears seemed to well up in his eyes.
His phone rang and stopped, and then rang again after it had stopped. It seemed that if he didn't
answer it, this person would keep calling him.
He pulled out his phone, saw the caller ID on it, and then simply hung up.
Soon his phone vibrated again.
He calmed himself down and picked it up, but his voice was very cold, "What’s wrong?"
"Your father is very sick. Why don't you come back and take a look at him?" The woman on the other
end of the phone said cautiously, even as if she were praying to him.
He didn't answer, except that his face became more and more gloomy and cold.
"No matter what, he's your father. Just come back and take a look at him. In case ... you'll regret it."
Regret?
His lips curled up into a mocking smile before he hung up the phone. Speaking of regrets, he had
something he wanted to ask his father, too.
He dialled the driver's number and told him to get the car ready. He was going out.
The driver answered.
He hung up the phone, stood up, and walked over to the sofa to pick up the jacket on top and put it on,
then stepped out the door.
The driver was already waiting at the door. He walked over and the driver pulled open the back door
and then he bent down and got in.
The driver closed the door and ran quickly to the front to get into the driver's seat. Soon the car drove
out.
He sat in the back seat and pressed his brow to ease his head, which hurt a little from drinking.
After a while, the car stopped and the driver came over to open the door for him. He bent down and got
out of the car, "Give me the keys. I'll go back on my own later. You can get off work."
The driver handed over the car key while he reached out to take it. He stood downstairs and looked up,
then walked in with an expressionless face.
Walking to the door, he lifted his hand and knocked, while soon the door opened from the inside. It was
his stepmother, Alyssa.
"Come on in." She hurriedly moved sideways to make room for him.
Stanford walked in with an expressionless face and said coldly, "I have to talk to him, and I don't want
to be disturbed."
Alyssa said awkwardly, "Fine. No one will come in and interrupt your conversation."
Stanford walked towards the room.
He pushed the door open and saw his father lying on the bed, then walked in and closed the door,
pulling a chair and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"There you are." As a father, upon meeting his son, Enoch did not have the authority of a father or
show affectionate concern for him but instead exchanged pleasantries with him as if he were an
acquaintance.
He had been bedridden since last year when he had a stroke that had left him paralyzed in the lower
half of his body.
Stanford rarely visited him.
"Did you call me for something?" He looked cold and unemotional.
He knew what was happening to him even if he didn't come. He'd have no problem surviving another
few years and Alyssa must have asked for something from him when she suddenly called him over.
As for what it was, it was naturally about their son, his half-brother.
His brother was the apple of their eye. Because he was so spoiled, he dropped out of university before
he finished and became a punk.
He didn't have a proper job and didn't stay at home all day.
"Stanford ..." Enoch said, without the authority of a father, "you have just one brother. Can you bear to
see him without a job?"
Stanford said indifferently, "My mother only gave birth to me."
Enoch didn’t look well but smiled for the sake of his youngest son's future, "Stanford, your mother and I
divorced because we didn't love each other anymore ..."
"I know. You love your current wife." Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by
Stanford.
He looked at Enoch with mixed emotions hidden under his eyes, "If it wasn't because of love, then why
did you marry her in the first place?"
Without waiting for Enoch to give him an answer, he added, "At the time, your families were both poor.
In today's parlance, you were a good match for each other, so you married her. If you hadn't gone out
to work, you might have grown old together. But you got out and made a small fortune, so you and she
were not right for each other. Because you are richer than she is, then you look down on her for being
from the countryside, for not knowing how to dress, for not being educated. You always felt humiliated
when you brought her around, so you stopped loving her."
"But have you ever thought about who helped you take care of your son and your parents when you
were out making a career? When you were away, she alone carried all the burdens of the family and
carried the responsibilities that a father should have carried. You said you didn't love her anymore and
you just abandoned her."
Stanford's expression and voice grew colder, "You do not love her because she has no more fine,
smooth skin, no more slender body, and no more of the young looks she had when she married you.
Her face is no longer beautiful, her hands are rough and her skin starts to sag, so you don't love her
anymore."
"Why are you holding on to something that's long in the past? Does dwelling on it make you happy?" Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.
Enoch frowned.
Stanford sneered, "Happy? Dad, tell me what happiness feels like?"
Enoch was silent.
"Why don't you say something?"
Stanford taunted, "You have nothing more to say, do you?"
"Just don't hold on to the past. It's not doing you any good." Enoch tried to enlighten Stanford and get
him to let go of the past.
"If she hadn't died, I wouldn't hold a grudge against you. It's because of you that she's dead!" If he
hadn't divorced her, she wouldn't have gone to work for someone as a nanny and she wouldn't have
died!
Just give him a little time, he would take care of her when he grew up.
But she didn't get to see him grow up!
"After marrying you, she did everything a wife should do. What did she do wrong? If you didn't love her,
why did you marry her in the first place and let her live alone for most of her life?"