Will You Marry Me?
She meant Neve Hospital? Charlene pried the curtains open, revealing the building right opposite the
bar they had been staying in. What a coincidence!
How could she possibly let up the chance to screw Deirdre even harder?
She hung up the call and decided to text: [I’m on the first floor of Nyx’s Pub. Had too much last night.
I’m having a stomach upset. If there’s any relief medicine, please bring some for me. I think it’s time we
talk.]
After ensuring the address was right, Charlene sent their location to Mrs. Engel’s number and deleted
all of Brendan’s conversation history and text messages.
Then, she dropped his phone back where it was.
She looked out of the window and watched Mrs. Engel and Deirdre coming out of the hospital.
Meanwhile, the door to the bathroom was unlocked. Brendan emerged from it, his black hair matted.
He was wearing his shirt from yesterday and trying to smooth the accumulated wrinkles. He took his
phone and was ready to leave.
“Bren?” Charlene watched him move and got out of bed, biting her lips.” You’re leaving?” “Of course.”
He shot an unfathomable glance at her. “I have a meeting to attend later this morning. What is it?”
Charlene cast her eyes down sadly. “I… I gave a long, hard thought about what happened last night,
and I was thinking… It can’t be good if I get pregnant and Miss McKinnon learns about it, right?
Besides, you wouldn’t want me pregnant, either. So, maybe you should tell Sam to buy me some
morning-after pills, and I’ll consume them right here, right now.”
Mentioning her possible pregnancy caused Brendan to sink into temporary silence. When he finally
answered, his tone was distinctively stoic. “We’re going to get married in the end, so what’s the
problem? Your pregnancy has nothing to do with her. She can’t interfere with my life.” 1
The man’s apathy pleased her. The timing was almost nigh. Stepping forward, she asked coyly, “If I did
get pregnant… would you marry me?” “Didn’t I already agree to that?” Brendan replied. He yanked the
door open-
And saw Mrs. Engel and Deirdre standing right there. Mrs. Engel’s face was white as a sheet, hinting
that she had heard the entirety of their conversation. Deirdre cast her gaze to the floor, but the way she
clenched her fingers was enough sign that she was trying to control her emotions from breaking out.
Brendan froze and frowned. “Why are you two here?”
Mrs. Engel could not even find her voice for a good long beat. “M-Mr.
Brighthall, wasn’t it you-” “Mrs. Engel! Miss McKinnon! Why are the two of you here?” Charlene feigned
shock and interjected. “Oh, please don’t misunderstand this. Brendan had a little too much last night,
so I stuck around to care for him “Shut the h*ll up!” thundered Deirdre, raising her head to reveal a pair
of reddened eyes. Her lips were trembling. She had to breathe hard a couple of times to finally calm
herself down enough to glare at Brendan. “I called you last night. I told you I wasn’t feeling good. I
asked you to please get me to the hospital. Why didn’t you!?” “Last… night?” Brendan, stunned, turned
to Charlene.
The young woman looked a little anxious, but Brendan replied quickly enough, “I drank too much last
night, that’s why. Besides, you look fine right now.” “Mr. Brighthall!” Mrs. Engel could not believe her
ears. Her heart was aching. “Mrs. Brighthall hadn’t been feeling well for an entire day yesterday. She
couldn’t even sleep well! We went to the hospital early this morning because of it, and this… This is
what you’ve decided to say to her!?”
Deirdre’s face was ashen, but it was precisely that sort of expression that galvanized Charlene into
adding more fuel to the fire. “Come on, Mrs.
Engel! That’s too harsh on Brendan, don’t you think? He did drink too much last night, okay? I was here
taking care of him because he was that drunk! Don’t you think it’s a little selfish to demand he cares for
Miss McKinnon in that state!?”
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