ushernet Chapter 180 Justin, is that you? Part1
Chapter 180 Justin, is that you? Part1
That night, I ended up sleeping at home again, on the couch as usual.
When I stirred in the middle of the night, I found Betty still lying on the floor beside the couch.
She seemed cold in her sleep, curled up tightly, while the only blanket in the house was draped over me.
Without a word, I gently moved the blanket over Betty, then headed to the bathroom.
When I returned, her body had relaxed, her breathing more even and calm.
I sighed, pondering for a moment before gently lifting Betty from the floor.
Slowly, I carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed.
Throughout this, she never woke; she was just too exhausted.
After placing Betty on the bed, I turned and walked back to the living room to continue my night on the couch.
When I woke up the next morning, I lazily turned over, my hand dangling off the couch, only to touch something soft.
I instantly became more alert and, opening my eyes, I saw Betty's figure.
She was back on the floor beside the couch, the blanket once again covering me.
It felt as if the scene of me carrying Betty to the room had been a dream, but I knew it was real.
Perhaps Betty had woken up in the middle of the night, found herself in the bed, and decided to return to my side.
I got up and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
When I finished, Betty was standing at the bathroom door waiting for me.
"I'll just freshen up a bit and then start on breakfast..." Betty said, her face showing a mix of nervousness and guilt.
She used to wake up much earlier than me to make breakfast, but lately, she had been oversleeping, waking up after me, which made her feel guilty, especially given our current situation.
Betty made a hearty breakfast, and after eating, I prepared to head out again.
I had thought a lot that night and had made a decision to try and return to a normal life.
It wasn't that I was indecisive by nature.
Originally, I was determined to divorce Betty and leave this family, but an unexpected turn in my relationship with Michael had caught me off guard.
After such a big incident, returning to the newspaper was out of the question.
I dialed Luna's number but ultimately hung up.
I had troubled Luna enough and didn't want to feel like I was living off someone else's charity.
Yet, since I was back, I had to at least greet my colleagues at the company.
After all, I was still living in this city, where you run into everyone sooner or later.
I hailed a cab and headed towards the newspaper office, planning also to stop by the hotel across from it to retrieve my belongings.
In the cab, I scrambled for excuses and reasons.
Just then, my phone rang.
I pulled it out and saw a number that was all too familiar—it was my old boss's number from the newspaper.
Due to the confidential nature of my job, I had memorized all necessary contact numbers, and the boss calling just 20 minutes after I had activated my new phone meant he must have been trying to reach me almost daily, perhaps multiple times a day.
Holding the phone, I hesitated to answer, unsure of what excuse to give.
The boss's call threw me off balance.
He obviously didn't know I had just bought a new phone and SIM card, but his call at this moment meant he had been trying to reach me persistently.
Maybe every hour, maybe every half hour, maybe...
"Hello, boss..." After the phone rang a second time without being answered, I had to pick it up, no matter what.
I'd just have to deal with it as it came.
"Justin, is that you? Justin..." As soon as the call connected, I heard my old boss's voice, charged with excitement.
It was a voice I had known for years, ever since I started at the newspaper.
He had promoted me, shielded me from upper management's pressure several times, and taken the blame for me.
In the professional world, people wear many masks, and you never truly know someone's real face.
But this boss had genuinely looked out for me, even if work was part of it, and his excited voice couldn't be faked.
"Boss, it's me..." I responded softly, yet found myself at a loss for words.