I Want a Divorce (Abigail and Sean) novel Chapter 909

It was evident to her that leaving Kevin downstairs was hardly fair.

Not even five minutes had passed since Sean had been reciting when the soft sound of Abigail's breath filled the air. With utmost care, he rose from his seat and planted a tender kiss on her cheek before silently slipping out of the room.

Back on the first floor, Sean's perplexed gaze fell upon Kevin. "I'm afraid I must abstain from joining you for drinks. After all, she's carrying our child. It wouldn't be wise to indulge in alcohol."

Kevin, his bewilderment mirrored by Sean's, retorted, "Do you lack basic common sense? You shouldn't be drinking even before she conceives."

Sean was unfazed by Kevin's skepticism and quipped, "What if she desires a second child? Preparation is key."

Momentarily rendered speechless, Kevin struggled to formulate a coherent response. "You truly are something else," he managed to articulate finally.

Turning his attention to the coffee table, Sean retrieved a selection of dried meat and arranged it meticulously on a decorative fruit platter. He also opened some peanuts and put them beside it, then asked the maid to bring over a fork and knife.

As Kevin munched on the peanuts, he couldn't help but lament, "It appears that Irene has taken a liking to one of the designers at Abigail's company."

"That's normal, too. There are a few male designers in the company who not only possess good looks but also exude exceptional charm," Sean remarked casually. He had paid a visit once and found himself forming somewhat lasting impressions of a few male designers.

"How do you manage to observe so attentively?" Kevin inquired, his expression reflecting a deep sense of gratitude. "Could it be that you've been observing those individuals with my interests in mind from the very beginning?"

Sean responded in a matter-of-fact tone, "As long as you're pleased."

Originally, he was wary of the designers developing a fondness for Abigail, but since Kevin seemed to prefer this certain narrative as it would make him feel better, he decided not to disclose the truth to him.

"Well, you've been really kind to me... My earlier efforts toward you weren't in vain," Kevin remarked and let out a hearty belch.

The tequila had certainly taken its toll on him. As intoxication set in, his emotions began to overflow.

"What do you think I've done wrong to her? I've put in significant effort to change, and I've refrained from engaging with any other woman. She hasn't afforded me any opportunity at all. I acknowledge that my initial intentions might have been frivolous, but I realize my mistake now," Kevin confessed, his grip on the glass tightening as anguish consumed him.

Sean reflected on the consequences of Kevin's past actions toward those girls and opted to remain silent.

The thought of the agony caused by rejection weighed heavily on Kevin, causing Sean to ponder the extent of suffering experienced by those girls Kevin had heartlessly cast aside.

"Sean, I'm talking to you!" Kevin's voice carried a tone of discontent as he looked to Sean for a response.

Sean's gaze bore into him, his expression a mixture of resignation and empathy. "What do you want me to say?" he sighed helplessly.

Kevin met his gaze with a scrutinizing stare. "Then why remain silent?" he questioned, his tone laced with a hint of frustration.

Sean's response was delivered with remarkable calmness, yet it cut deep. "The pain you're experiencing pales in comparison to the anguish felt by those girls who once loved you," he stated, his words carrying the weight of undeniable truth.

Each word uttered felt like a blow to Kevin's heart, causing him to falter under the weight of his own emotions.

"You're trapped in your own suffering, drowning in self-pity, but have you ever considered the feelings of those who genuinely cared for you?" Sean's voice remained steady as he silently poured another glass of wine.

As Kevin drank in silence, he was forced to confront the harsh reality of his actions. After a prolonged moment of reflection, he finally conceded. "You're right, it's my fault."