The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 657

Once in his life, he had allowed himself to trust a woman completely, to believe every word she said. In the end, he realized he was nothing more than a background character in her little game. How ridiculous.

Patti Yale flinched at the harshness in his voice, the fear in her eyes making Hawthorne rein himself in a little.

“Hawthorne, I know I was wrong before. Please, forgive me—”

She clung to his hand, on the verge of tears.

The ice in Hawthorne’s eyes hadn’t thawed, but his tone softened.

“It’s like you said—it’s all in the past. Let’s not bring it up again.”

He looked at her. “So, you called me here for breakfast?”

Tears sparkled in Patti Yale’s eyes, but when she saw he had no intention to blame her, her sorrow faded a little.

“Yes, I did. I still remember all your favorites—I made everything just the way you like. Come, sit.”

She pulled him by the hand, beaming with pride as she led him to the dining table. Local specialties from Greenvale—fresh pastries and savory bites—were already set out.

Hawthorne glanced at the trash beside the table, noticing the corner of a white receipt poking out. “You made all this yourself?”

“I did. I got up at five to get everything ready. I woke up and you were gone, and I’ve been anxious ever since.”

She guided his hand to her chest, right over her pounding heart. Hawthorne jerked his hand away, as if he’d touched something scalding.

His reaction only made Patti Yale laugh.

“You’re still the same shy guy from years ago, huh?” she teased. “Don’t tell me you’re still a virgin, Hawthorne.”

Hawthorne looked at her, finally replying in a calm, flat voice, “No.”

He wasn’t joking, and Patti Yale’s confident smile froze.

She boasted about her father’s success overseas, their new estates, the family’s vineyard. In reality, Darius Yale had been in prison for over six months, and Patti herself was barely scraping by.

She was still wearing the latest designer winter coat, a gift from her last benefactor, and carried a brand-new crocodile Hermes—the exact model Hawthorne had once considered buying, though he’d given up, thinking Gwyneth wouldn’t care for it.

“So, what made you come back all of a sudden?”

After listening to her chatter, Hawthorne suddenly asked. Patti wasn’t put off—she just looked at him with those sparkling, flirtatious eyes. “If I said I came back for you, would you believe me?”

Hawthorne idly split the soft-boiled egg on his plate with a fork, letting the golden yolk spill out.

When he didn’t answer, Patti’s expression grew cautious.

“I met plenty of rich kids while I was abroad—”

She never bothered pretending to be perfect in front of Hawthorne. After all, when they first met, she’d already had a boyfriend.