Trouble in Paradise



Chapter 0560

I easily dodged the kiss aimed at my forehead, and the disappointment on Nicholas' face was evident.

"I want to sleep," I said, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

He let out a silent sigh. "Alright. Sleep first. When you wake up, I should be able to give you an explanation."

I widened my eyes, feeling slightly surprised. "What explanation?"

His arms tightened around me slightly. "The one you want to hear."

"Can't you say it now?"

Nicholas glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's not time yet."

I was a bit frustrated and dizzy, unsure of what kind of cryptic game he was playing.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

I closed my eyes in irritation, expecting my racing thoughts to keep me awake. But to my surprise, I drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When I woke up, the space beside me was empty. Sitting up, I hugged my knees and stared blankly ahead.

It was already the next morning, and that "explanation" I had been promised never came. The emptiness inside me was like the feeling after an exhilarating high-hollow and lonely.

I quickly reminded myself that loneliness was just part of life. Sometimes, it was better to focus on getting myself back on track rather than depending on others.

After a quick wash, I realized that apart from some lingering dizziness and fatigue, I felt much better. The illness had passed without much drama.

I had planned to get something to eat. As I went downstairs, I found a note from Nicholas on the fridge.

"The food is in the microwave. Heat it for three minutes. I went home to check on Tabitha."

The word "don't" had been crossed out in the middle of the note, as if he'd changed his mind mid-thought. Instead, he wrote, "We'll talk when I get back."

Nicholas' handwriting was bold and elegant. I'd only seen his signature on formal documents before. This simple, domestic note felt strangely out of character, almost like he was trying to play the part of a considerate husband. As my fingertips traced each stroke, a faint, indescribable emotion stirred within me. What could he possibly mean by, "We'll talk when I get back"?

Honestly, it wouldn't have made a difference if he hadn't left that note. I supposed I'd learned to live with being the one he put last. It didn't matter anymore.

In the end, the paper fluttered into the trash. I stared at the reheated food, but I couldn't bring myself to take a single bite.

I missed Tabitha. Without her, the house felt so cold and empty. I realized I no longer knew how to live alone. As soon as I plugged in my phone, the screen lit up, followed by a string of notifications.

Yasmine had sent me a lot of messages, each one a long voice message. I didn't open them but clicked on the first video she had sent instead. It was a screen recording.

Apparently, during the night while I had been sleeping peacefully, everything else had gone sideways. My name had been trending in social news. "Ariana Jones-The Murderer."

Claudia had been hospitalized after a car accident. She had thrown all the blame onto me. When she was being lifted into the ambulance, she had said one sentence before slipping into a coma.

"Ariana didn't just slap me in front of the whole world, she's trying to kill me! If I die today, Ariana's the murderer!"

Among Yasmine's voice messages, four were rants cursing Claudia. The rest were advice on how to prepare for a legal battle, reassuring me to stay calm.

When Nicholas came back, I was still holding my phone, lost in thought. He stood in the doorway, his dark clothing creating an overwhelming presence that pressed down on me like a weight. I felt suffocated.

'Nicholas, did you do this?"