You Looked Down on Me Once, Now You Look Up. novel Chapter 493

“When I left, what did you promise me?”

Patricia answered honestly, “That I’d take care of myself.”

Mr. Padilla’s voice was cool. “And did you?”

She let out a sigh. “It’s my fault. The weather was hot and I ended up drinking a little too much.”

“Just the drinks?” He didn’t buy it for a second.

Patricia was the definition of self-control—calm, careful, a thousand times more disciplined than most men. The idea that she’d go overboard just because it was hot was as likely as Mars crashing into Earth.

She looked up at Oliver and sighed. “I’m an adult, Mr. Padilla. Like you said, I’m careful and cautious. Shouldn’t that be enough for you to trust me?”

“I’d never put myself in danger. But bodies are tricky. They’re not as predictable as emotions. Sometimes things just go wrong. What am I supposed to do about that?”

“I don’t see why, just because I’m not feeling well, I have to take the blame for your bad mood, too.”

A good marriage is about balance. If one person is stubborn, the other needs to be soft. But tonight, Patricia was done being soft.

If he kept pushing, she was going to snap.

She was tired of pretending.

As soon as the words left her mouth, there was a loud bang.

Oliver shot up from his chair, towering over her. The weight of his stare made her mood even worse.

Normally, Patricia would have backed down by now.

But not tonight.

She stayed put until Oliver finally went upstairs. Only then did she grip the edge of the table and get up.

Marian hurried over when she saw Patricia leaving. “Miss—”

“I’m not eating. Just clear it away.”

“But—” Marian started, but Patricia, burning with anger, stormed out of the dining room.

Out in the living room, the three kids who’d been playing games on their phones froze when they heard the commotion. None of them dared move, all of them stretching their necks like deer in headlights as she walked past.

Patricia, still fuming, marched into the bedroom. She yanked open Oliver’s drawer, grabbed a box of condoms, and headed for the bathroom, tearing one open on the way. She turned on the faucet and held the condom underneath, watching water bubble out the sides.

She laughed to herself, bitter and frustrated.

Of course.

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