Chapter 580
Chapter 580
Words failed to capture the turmoil raging within Frederick’s heart.
Jocelyn, on the other hand, was utterly baffled.
Ever since they’d moved into the Winston Estate, their paths crossed more frequently, but Marguerite
was always hustling, leaving at dawn and returning well past dusk due to her demanding job.
In all honesty, Jocelyn and Hayes didn’t interact much.
Yet, the words Hayes had for Marguerite were undeniably the highest form of praise.
“Hayes, why would you say that?”
Hayes, hands jammed in his pockets, chin tilted up, appeared to be seriously pondering the question.
“Because… Aunt Marguerite is kind, thoughtful… sincere, and she cares about me…”
He articulated each thought as it came to him. He racked his brain for all of Marguerite’s virtues,
wishing he could ascribe every splendid word in the world to her. But to Hayes, even those words
seemed too shallow, hardly sufficient to express his true sentiments.
He sighed, resigning to a vague summation, “It’s just a feeling!”
Yes, a feeling! To him, Aunt Marguerite felt more like family than his own mother ever did!
Jocelyn listened silently, her eyes welling up with emotion, her heart swelling with a sense of
tenderness.
Children’s perspectives are always pure; they gravitate towards those who treat them well. Hayes’
affection for Marguerite was a clear sign of her devotion to him.
It wasn’t easy. The warmth that Hayes’ actual mother Yuna had failed to provide, he’d found anew in
Marguerite.
With this in mind, Jocelyn’s heart ached even more for Hayes.
She sniffled, stood up, and met Frederick’s gaze, her eyes slightly stinging, and asked, “You heard all
that? You’re too stubborn. No matter the past grudges, for the sake of the child, it’s time to let go. And
about the poisoning accusation against Marguerite, obviously there’s been a misunderstanding. Aren’t
you going to clear her name?”
Frederick was in turmoil, his emotions unsettled after three long years, yet his mother was determinedly
nudging him forward.
His dark eyes were unfocused, shrouded in a thick fog of confusion and doubt.
08.07
He mumbled, “Didn’t I say I’d look into it, to clear her name?”
“How will you investigate?” Jocelyn challenged. “Behind her back?”
Frederick’s eyes were reddened, his demeanor icy, “Yes.”
“Why can’t you let her know about what you’re doing for her? Listen, as someone who’s been through it
all, you shouldn’t hide everything from her. Love is love. Don’t play games. with mixed signals. If you
investigate behind her back, how will she know you care?”
Jocelyn’s words were blunt. She had been caught between Marguerite and her son, never daring to
jump to conclusions or give Marguerite false hope.
That was because she wasn’t sure which was stronger in her son’s heart towards Marguerite, love or NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
resentment.
But since moving back to the Winston Estate, their daily interactions had slowly revealed his true
feelings to her.
Of course, she had to give him a push.
In this relationship, hate might still linger, but it had become irrelevant.
Frederick didn’t immediately counter his mother’s words, simply saying, “I don’t want to get into
something with no end in sight. She’s about to get married.”
“But the wedding hasn’t happened yet, has it? Marriage isn’t a joke, and it’s not an excuse for you to
run away.”
As she spoke, Jocelyn grabbed his phone from the table and dialed a number.
Frederick glanced down and realized she was calling Marguerite.
His tone was displeased, “What are you doing?”
“Calling Marguerite over. Take her with you and investigate this whole thing together.”
Frederick’s posture was haughty and defiant, his reddened eyes bloodshot and intense, “Mom! Stay
out of it!”
He was adamant, but Jocelyn stood her ground just as firmly, “You’ve wronged her; the least you can
do is explain. You’re thirty-one, don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”
Her words hung in the air as the call connected.
Marguerite’s voice came through the phone, emotionless, “What’s up?”
Jocelyn held the phone up to Frederick, urging him to speak. He hesitated, falling silent. “If you don’t
speak up, I’m hanging up.” said Marguerite