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Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

Chapter 854
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Chapter 854 The Wedding Invitation

Brendan and Charlene were getting married.

That was despite the fact that she was bearing Brendan's child. In other words, her pregnancy had done nothing to

stop the man from loving another woman.

It was the kind of thing that would elicit disdain and jeers. The only reason why they even showed Deirdre the most

basic of decorum was that the father of her child was Brendan himself.

"Oh, I see." Deirdre exhaled a long breath. She did not feel as shaken as she thought she would be-perhaps she had

been anticipating this forthat much time. The only thing that she thought of-and so the only that caused any

feelings-was what Brendan had said before he left. "You've always been in my heart."

What an absurd joke he had made.

"Congratulations, I guess. And sorry, too, since I'm not yet fit to meet the world right now. I'm going to have to skip

your wedding." She set the card on the table.

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Charlene stared at Deirdre's face as though hoping she could catch a glimpse of jealousy from her gorgeous

features. She chuckled. "Can't meet the world, or forbidden to?"

Deirdre’s eyes dimmed.

Charlene twitched the corner of her lip into a smile. "I feel bad for you. Miss McKinnon. I really do. You've even

managed to be pregnant with his child! But even after I gave you so many chances, you still failed to make him love

you. But don't worry! I have to thank you for doing the job of childbirth for me, right? I'll take good care of that kid

as Brendan's wife in the future. Pinky promise!"

She shoved the card back into Deirdre's hand, turned on her heels, and left.

The maid quickly followed her to see her off.

Nobody seemed to think it was worth comforting Deirdre or asking if she was okay.

Deirdre could not stop thinking back to the past-the wedding she had planned.

She had planned the entire event meticulously. She had devoted her soul to it, and yet Brendan did not care about

any of that at all. To him, it had felt like going through yet another ceremonial motion-even the part where he had

cradled her by the waist and called her "beloved" had been simply part of the show.

He had spent their wedding night cooped up in the room Charlene slept.

She had spent their wedding night awake, waiting for her husband, who never came.

One thing was for sure: Brendan had learned to be better at pretending. Or maybe he had realized she had some

utility after all. Now, he could even manage to say "I love you" with so much faux sincerity that Deirdre was almost

fooled.

She chucked the card to the floor and went back upstairs.

Dinnertime came. Madame Brighthall returned from outside, her face wrought with a mix of helplessness and

fatigue.

A maid quickly approached her and asked, "Are you alright, Madame Brighthall? Here, have a tablet to calm your

mind a little."

She waved dismissively. "Where's Dee?"

The maids exchanged glances. "She's upstairs." "But it’s time for dinner. Why hasn't any of you notified her?"

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"Well... we did. But Miss McKinnon's probably not hungry. She said she wanted to sleep, and since pregnant women

are easily tired out, we decided to just leave it be."

Madame Brighthall sighed, her face ashen. "If that's what she wants, then let her be. We... The Brighthall family

owes her too much. God, we owe her too much."

The maid nodded and poured a glass of water.

Madame BrighthaII sat on the couch, and suddenly her eyes caught a card left at the corner. She picked it up and

saw Brendan and Charli’s names in large, bright letters.

Her heart skipped a beat. She leaped to her feet.

The maid came in just in time when she yelled frantically, "What in tarnation is this’?"

The maids, of course, knew. Panicked, one of them answered hesitantly," It's... uh, the invitation card to, urn, Mr.

Brighthall and Miss McKinsey's wedding..."

Madame Brighthall slammed the card on the table. "Christ, I know what it is! Why can I possibly not know!? But

where in h*ll did it spring from? Did Dee know about this!?"

The maids were too frightened to lie. Perturbed, one of them explained, "M- Miss McKinnon knew, ma’am. It’s... It’s

Miss McKinsey. S-She came to give the card to M-Miss McKinnon personally-" "She did what’?" Madame Brighthall

snapped, cutting the maid off in a sheer rage. Her chest hurt, but she continued to snarl. "Who the h*ll told any one

of you to let that woman in!? Dee had no idea what happened! Doesn't any one of you know that!?"