Seven Years a Shadow: The Stand-In's Escape novel Chapter 69

The image of me and our son leaving, with decisive steps, flashed before his eyes, and his heart raced.

Maybe, he should stop his childish behavior.

Maybe, after all these years, I've changed.

Maybe...

At 6 p.m., Emerson took Jenny to a dinner hosted by a business partner.

It had been a day since he had seen me, and Emerson absentmindedly held his wine glass.

Had he gone too far this time?

This thought flashed through his mind.

Emerson pursed his lips and drank the wine in one go.

He took out his phone, planning to send me a message, but was interrupted by the approaching business partner.

"Mr. Martin, about the proposal..."

Emerson froze for a moment, quickly pushing aside other thoughts and shifting into work mode.

Just as the conversation was going well, a discordant voice suddenly interrupted.

"Mr. Martin, this dessert is so delicious."

Jenny, holding a chocolate cupcake, looked pure and innocent.

The conversation was interrupted, and the others' expressions darkened.

But Jenny, oblivious to the looks, smiled and moved in front of Emerson, trying to shove the chocolate cake toward his mouth.

Emerson, caught off guard, ended up with chocolate and cream all over his face.

Jenny, startled, hurried to wipe it off.

Emerson quickly took a large step back, as if avoiding a flood or a wild beast.

"Enough!"

Jenny stopped, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Mr. Martin, what's wrong? You weren't like this before."

Emerson took a deep breath, about to speak, when he caught the strange looks from the others.

When they saw him glance over, Mr. Young awkwardly smiled.

"Mr. Martin, please, we can talk about the proposal next time."

The others quickly agreed.

"Yes, yes, you're busy."

"We'll talk next time."

They quickly left.

Emerson had no reason to stop them, and felt too embarrassed to try.

What should have been a simple business discussion had turned into an embarrassing scene, all because of Jenny.

Emerson couldn't imagine how his reputation in the industry would be affected after this.

And sure enough, that was the case.

After Mr. Young and the others left, they found a quiet place to gossip about Emerson.

"Say, do you think Mr. Martin has some sort of special preference?"

Mr. Young, a man in his fifties, was the first to speak.

Fearing that Jenny would continue her disruptive behavior, Emerson avoided engaging in further conversations with anyone for the rest of the evening.

Occasionally, someone would approach to chat, but he only exchanged a few brief words.

For the rest of the evening, he sat in a corner on the couch, drinking one glass of wine after another.

Finally, when the banquet ended, he bade farewell to the host and quickly left.

Once he got home, the drunkenness hit him hard.

Emerson leaned on his head, staggering as he opened the door.

"Hailee, pour me some water."

There was silence in the room.

Emerson paused, then realized.

I had left with our son the day before.

He turned on the lights and went to the kitchen.

He took out a can of soda from the fridge and noticed, as he closed the door, that the fridge door had been covered with a variety of stickers.

Most of them were cartoon characters that children liked.

Looking at these childish pictures that he usually found excessive, Emerson couldn't help but chuckle softly.

He seemed to see a scene in front of him—his son, Lucas, tiptoeing into the study, holding a children's book, carefully approaching him.

"Dad, can you read with me?"

And what had he said?

Emerson paused his drinking, his gaze distant.