The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 689

This place was a bit out of the way, and although Gwyneth had been to the small grocery store nearby, she’d never seen seafood this large before. She couldn’t help but feel a little curious.

“Mrs. Langley, where did you get this seafood?” she asked as she eyed the steaming dish on the table.

“Oh, a distant cousin brought it over last week,” Mrs. Langley replied with a practiced ease. “I’ve been saving it in the freezer, never quite able to bring myself to use it. But when I saw how unwell you were after last night, I thought a warm seafood stew might help.”

Mrs. Langley handled these things with such familiarity that Gwyneth didn’t think twice about it.

The pot of seafood stew was emptied in no time, leaving Gwyneth wishing for just one more spoonful.

As Mrs. Langley tidied up, she picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor—the same one Hawthorne had seen earlier, with the word “divorce” scrawled across it.

“Did you have a fight with your husband?” Mrs. Langley asked gently.

So, she’s the wife, not the mistress, Mrs. Langley realized. Just a young couple having a quarrel.

Gwyneth blushed and quickly took the paper from her landlady’s hand. “No, nothing like that. I was just scribbling.”

She tossed the paper into the coal stove, watching it curl and burn to ash. Mrs. Langley smiled but didn’t press further. She changed Gwyneth’s bedding for fresh linens and took out the trash before leaving her guest in peace.

Not disturbing the tenants was an unspoken rule among landlords. Mrs. Langley had accepted Hawthorne’s money, gone a little above and beyond, and then busied herself elsewhere.

Gwyneth pushed open the window. The rain was still falling in a steady, misty drizzle, but after the stew, she felt more invigorated than she had in days.

For several days, Mrs. Langley prepared her nourishing seafood stew. At first, Gwyneth hadn’t thought much of it, but the more often it happened, the stranger it seemed.

Those oversized, expensive pieces of seafood—were they really a gift from a distant cousin? If Mrs. Langley couldn’t bear to eat them herself, why was she so generous with Gwyneth?

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