The Love From Vengeance

162 A GLANCE ONCE AGAIN

LUKE’S POV

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want Tiffany to be my wife because I already had one, but they wouldn’t want to listen to me. Fuck that! I had made a promise to my grandfather concerning treating Ariel like a princess, but doing this with Tiffany might just ruin that vow. I could take responsibility for her child, but marrying her? It is definitely not an option. How the hell was I even going to have two wives? There was definitely no way I was going to divorce Ariel.

that “sull in

the living room, still carrying out this discussion. I was trying to convince them

So I had to tell them my feelings before storming out of the house. Yes, that was just it. They kept on insisting that I should get married to their daughter because their family doesn’t accept things like that. To hell with their family sh*t or whatever. I would take care of that baby, but I was not going to be Tiffany’s husband. That’s my decision; I wouldn’t be changing it. Not in this life.

“Luke, where are you going?” Tiffany asked loudly, marching behind me. I refused to answer her, and as I got closer to my car, she seized my hand.

“Let go!” I snapped.

“What in the world is wrong with you?” She asked coldly.

“Go tell your parents that.”

“Go tell my parents that. How disrespectful.”

“Oh, so it’s disrespectful, huh? And you were saying that to me.”

“Come on, Luke. Why do you have to be such a mad ass?”

“I’m not mad; I’m just letting you guys get some things around here. I can’t be your husband.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m married,” I replied loudly.

ta

“Well then, get a divorce.”

“A divorce? Can you hear yourself right now?”

Tiffany wanted to lengthen the conversation, but I had to stop her. It was of no use if we continued talking. I drove away, not wanting to get involved in this anymore. But I knew it wasn’t over. Hell no, the sh*t was just getting started. But still, no one was going to control me. You try to ruin my reputation. You’ll only be fooling yourself.

ARIEL’S POV

Andre and I stood at the airport, waiting for Seth and Michael to arrive. Andre was the one who took me here; we both had been standing for minutes, talking about all kinds of stuff–the little children, Lukel and Janice, business talk, along with others.

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So, after quite some time, we spotted Michael and Seth. When they had gotten closer, I went to welcome them with a tight hand again. Michael was the one I embraced first, since he was a funny guy. Scott, on the other hand, always had that frowny face, but still, I welcomed him. I missed both of them. The four of us made a good team; no one could deny that. Glad we were back.

Andre walked to us with a huge smile on his face. He shook hands with Mason as well as greeting them. Funny talks took place, and so many more until we left the airport.

«Seth.

We all settled info Andre’s car; he turned on the radio, and we all started singing along to the latest pop hits. Seth, however, sat in the back with his arms crossed, not joining in on the fun.

“Come on, Seth! Sing with us!” I called out, trying to get him to loosen up.

But he just shook his head and muttered something about not wanting to embarrass himself. Michael and I exchanged a look and burst into laughter. Seth was always the serious one, no kidding. But we

loved him for it.

As we continued to sing and joke around, André suddenly turned off the radio and said, “Okay, enough of that. Let’s play a game!‘

We all groaned, knowing how competitive André could be. He was a pro when it came to competitions like this. I remember back then in Canada when we would just sit down at the office, bored as hell, so we would start playing games and all that. Now we were about to relive that moment. So we agreed, and André started the game.

“Okay, the rules are simple,” he told us. “I’ll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind. Let’s start with pizza.”

“Cheese!” I shouted.

“Pepperoni!” Michael joined in.

“Yuck,” Seth muttered.

We all laughed and continued with the game, coming up with the most random words and laughing until our stomachs hurt. It was moments like these that reminded me why I loved spending time with these guys.

When we got close to our destination, André suddenly turned serious. “Guys, I have something important to tell you.”

We all listened attentively as he explained a new business project that had come his way, and then my phone began to ring. It was Mason. I declined the phone call, but he called again. I refused to answer, then I got a message on my phone from Mason.

“Why aren’t you answering my calls?” Said the text.

“I’m busy right now. We’ll talk later,” I replied, while Andre continued telling us about the business project. My mind wasn’t settled anymore. My joyful face had faded all because of Mason, and I was just quiet while the others were lively in the car. Well, except for Seth. All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

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“What’s wrong?” He asked me slowly.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I answered in a whisper, and I let out a deep sigh, covering my face. I could tell Andre was stealing glances at me. But she refused to ask me a damn thing.

LUKE’S POV

My stomach growled loudly as I drove down the deserted highway. A cozy diner with a flickering neon sign caught my eye, reading “Maggie’s Diner: Home Cooking at Its Best.” I decided it was time to refuel both my cat and myself, so I parked my dusty old pickup outside and stepped into the warm, inviting glow of the diner.

The sizzling of pans and murmured conversations filled the air as I settled into a worn booth by the window. A friendly waitress, wearing a vintage apron and a warm smile, handed me a menu. I scanned the options, my mouth watering at the thought of a hearty meal.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I ordered Maggie’s famous meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy, a side of buttery corn on the cob, and a slice of homemade apple pie for dessert. As I waited, I watched the comings and goings of the locals, the clinking of silverware, and the comforting hum of the place.

When my meal arrived, the aroma was divine, and the first bite of the savory meatloaf melted in my mouth. The buttery potatoes complemented the dish perfectly, and the sweetness of the corn added a delightful contrast. As I savored each bite, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for stumbling upon this hidden gem of a diner.

After finishing my meal, I paid the bill and thanked the waitress for the delicious food and warm hospitality. With a contented smile, I stood up, and as I was about to leave, my eyes caught someone moving in my direction. I couldn’t believe it. Well, I could believe it since I was informed that she had broken out of prison. And you now know who I was talking about. It was Harriet.