Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Two hours later, Moira sat beside Barclay, looking incredulously at the marriage license in her hand.
It was hers and Barclay Covington’s name on the license. Wow.
How did she end up getting a marriage license with Barclay when all she wanted to do was apologize to him and explain everything sincerely?
How she felt now was complex. She pursed her lips and tilted her head to look at Barclay on the side.
She had heard of the name Barclay Covington for years. Never had she ever thought that this name would be on the same marriage license as her name.
Moira’s mind was still messed up when the car stopped outside her villa.
“Mrs. Covington, you seem dissatisfied with our picture,” said Barclay in a low voice.
Moira came back to her senses. Her hand trembled when she heard him call her Mrs. Covington. The marriage license fell on Barclay’s leather shoes.
He leaned over, picked up the marriage license, and handed it to her. “So, I was right.”
Moira glanced at Barclay in embarrassment. “Don’t be ridiculous. I like it.”
Moira looked at the photo on the marriage license. The two of them together were not as weird as she thought.
The photographer had asked her to smile during the photo shoot earlier, and with her mind empty, she subconsciously smiled.
Moira had a pair of beautiful eyes. When she smiled, they were bright and sparkling. Also, her smile made Barclay’s angular face look not so distant. Anyway, they looked like a real couple in the photo.
“Sure,” answered Barclay. He got off the car, walked to her side, and leaned down to carry her out.
He had been carrying her for the whole morning Moira kind of got used to it. She wrapped one arm around his neck, the other holding the marriage license.
Barclay carried her all the way to her room and put her in her wheelchair. When he was straightening up, he halted at her eye level and looked at her from a distance of half a fist.
Moira felt her face burning and looked away. “You should get to your business, Mr. Covington,” she said.
“One week.” His dark eyes flickered. He straightened up, looked down at her, and added, “I’ll come and take you home in one week, Mrs. Covington.”
Moira’s eyes widened. Seeing he was leaving, she hurriedly reached out to grab his sleeve. But she was too fast and held his index finger instead. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.
Moira hastily pulled back her hand and curled her fingers. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Barclay looked down at his index finger that had been pulled over, said nothing, and left.
Moira was tortured by what he said about taking her home in one week. She felt Barclay was doing it on purpose. She made such a rude and outrageous request, and now he started to take revenge on her.
She hadn’t told Aiken about this.
When Juliet made the video call, Moira was not in the mood to eat anymore, and she directly dropped her fork, picked up her cell phone, and moved her
wheelchair over to the sofa.
“Moira, did you have dinner?” Juliet asked.
“Yeah. A bit.”
00:38 Sat, 15 Jun Mo
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Moira paused, ready to confess to Juliet about her marriage with Barclay. But before she could continue, she saw Juliet gritting her teeth. Juliet growled. “What a bitchi Claire deserves more than one slap. But she will taste the medicine of her own. Allie, this jerk.
At first, Moira thought Juliet was still angry about what happened yesterday morning, but the more she heard, the more weird she felt.