Love You Enough To Leave You Chapter 91

Chapter 91 A Filthy Woman,Love You Enough to Leave You

Oscar suddenly stood up. Apprehensively, Amelia asked, “Mr. Clinton, are you leaving?” Oscar walked
over. He leaned over Amelia, almost pinning her onto the bed. The tips of their noses brushed against
each other. Enthralled, Amelia had no way of reining in her wildly beating heart. Her eyes darted from
side to side, desperately avoiding Oscar’s intent gaze. “What do you feel like eating? I’ll go and get it,”
he said. That was the last thing Amelia had expected to hear from Oscar at that moment. “Now that
you’re having a baby, you should eat a little more than usual.

Tell me what you’re craving; I’ll buy it for you.” Oscar’s cool tone belied his apparent discomfort. Amelia
couldn’t believe her ears. This was Oscar’s first time showing concern for her baby. “Mr. Clinton, are
you actually concerned about me?” Amelia asked in disbelief. “Enough of that. Tell me, quickly, what
you want to eat,” Oscar insisted. Amelia found the situation hilarious. Oscar seemed a lot more human
now in comparison to the guarded, defensive man he usually was. “Since you’ve offered, I can’t
possibly say no. All right then. On account of Mr. Clinton’s generosity, I’d like to order a pasta
arrabbiata, stewed beef, and mango sorbet to top it all off… I’m spoilt for choice! How can I decide?”

Amelia asked in exaggerated despair. Seeing that Oscar had let her off the hook for the matter with the
photographs, the sudden feeling of liberation dared Amelia to joke with Oscar, something she seldom
did. Oscar only glared at her. “Amelia, don’t go overboard.” “Don’t be so petty, Mr. Clinton. Can’t you
even bear to buy these for me?” Amelia wheedled, pouting. Oscar realized that he rather liked seeing
this feminine side of Amelia. “Wait and see; I’ll buy it all for you. Anything else?” he queried. “I want
you. Can I have that?” Amelia asked playfully. Oscar’s face once again assumed a sober look. “You’re
only allowed to say such things to me in the future. I forbid you from flirting with any other man like
that.”

Flirting? Amelia thought she had merely been casually teasing Oscar. She was rather distressed that it
had been seen as flirtatious. It seemed that everyone perceived things rather differently indeed. “Since



you object, Mr. Clinton, I won’t say things like that anymore,” Amelia said, sulking. Oscar grit his teeth
in frustration. “You…” Amelia held her belly and opened her eyes wide, beseeching Oscar in a cutesy
tone, “Mr. Clinton, I’m hungry.” “All right, hang on. I’ll go and buy it for you now,” Oscar replied as he
headed towards the door. “Mr. Clinton,” Amelia’s cry stopped Oscar in his tracks. Turning around, he
asked, “What is it?”

“Mr. Clinton, I’m bored. I didn’t bring my phone with me to the hospital. Can I borrow yours to play
with?” Amelia pleaded. Oscar hesitated for a moment, then handed his phone to Amelia. “The
password’s your birthdate.” Surprised, Amelia looked at him. She refused to believe that that was his
chosen password. Oscar cleared his throat awkwardly, then said, “There are a couple of games inside.
You can take a look if you’re bored. I’ll be off, then.” He turned quickly on his heels and left the room.
Amelia was still looking at his phone in shock. She muttered to herself, “Oscar, if you truly didn’t care
for me, then why did you use my birthdate as your password? Don’t you know what kind of hope that
raises in me?

What if I can’t bear to let you go when it’s time for the divorce?” Amelia’s emotions were in complete
turmoil. On the one hand, she didn’t want to get a divorce. On the other, Amelia was afraid that they
eventually would, and Oscar would take her baby away regardless of what he had promised her. Oscar,
I think I’ve really fallen for you. If I could, I would want to depend on you for the rest of my life. I want a
real relationship with you, not just a transactional one. Amelia gingerly looked at Oscar’s phone, then
opened his photo album. As she scrolled through it, she realized to her surprise that it contained many
photos of her, most of them taken when she was sleeping. In a few, a single blanket covered her bare
body; in others, she had fallen asleep fully clothed.

The photos of Amelia numbered more than a thousand in sheer variety. It was completely unlike the
Oscar she knew to have so many photos of Amelia. Amelia took to examining them. Oscar had taken
some from behind her as she walked ahead. Amelia could barely even recall when these moments had
taken place, let alone presented any opportunities in which Oscar had taken such flattering



photographs of her. Amelia’s eyes grew moist. She’d always believed that Oscar liked her solely for her
body. If he had absolutely no other feelings for her, however, then what could explain this stash of
Amelia’s photos?

Amelia was willing to bet anything she had that a man who had no affection whatsoever for her would
not possess so many photos of her. It was like a carefully curated gallery of art. As Amelia went
through each photo, she realized with a start that there were barely ten photos of Cassie. Besides a
few snapshots of scenery scattered here and there, the rest of Oscar’s photo album was practically a
shrine to Amelia. Amelia felt incredibly perturbed. As she weighed Oscar’s phone in her hand, she
mumbled, “Oscar, all the photos you have are of me. Doesn’t that mean that you don’t hate me too
much? Why can’t we spend the rest of our lives together, then? Just then, an incoming call jolted
Amelia out of her brief reverie.

Cassie’s name flashed across the screen. Upon seeing it, Amelia’s heart immediately plummeted. She
hesitated for a while, then picked up. Cassie’s excited chatter floated across the line. “Oz, I went for a
check-up with your secretary today. The doctor said that the baby’s very healthy.” A note of betrayal
crept into her voice. “You promised that you’d come with me, but you’re always so occupied with work! I
said that I’d be a model wife so I won’t blame you this time. Oz, the baby and I both miss you so much!
Will you be coming over tonight?” Amelia’s hand clutched the blanket. She bit her lip with such fury that
it almost drew blood. With what strength she could muster, Amelia said evenly, “Sorry, Ms. Yard, it’s
Amelia.

Oz, as you call him, has gone out to buy food for me. I’m afraid he just missed your entire speech.”
Cassie was silent for a moment. Then she retorted, “Why are you answering my call, Amelia? Where’s
Oz?” “He went to buy food for me,” Amelia answered sweetly. “Amelia, you have no shame at all! After
your blatant cheating affair at your company, which was even documented in a few photographs, how
can you be so shameless as to stay with Oz?” Cassie said disdainfully. Amelia paled. Shakily, she
asked, “How did you know about the photos?” Cassie sniggered. “How do you think I got to know about



it? Of course, Oz was the one who told me. Oz said you are, by far, the most filthy and disgusting
woman he’s met.

It’s not for me to judge a gold-digger, but going for two men at the same time? That’s remarkably
greedy, even by your standards.” Amelia grew even paler. Her grip on the blanket tightened. “Ms. Yard,
I don’t think it’s your place to comment on the kind of woman I am. Even if I’m cheating on Oscar, it’s
up to him to decide if he wants to divorce me. You’re nothing more than an outsider.” Cassie snickered.
Keep lying to yourself, Amelia. I’ll be Oz’s wife soon. No matter what, you’re the one who’ll eventually
be the outsider here.” Despite herself, Amelia stood her ground valiantly. “So what? At least I’m still
Oscar’s wife now. You’re the mistress he’s ashamed of. When word gets out, I don’t think the Yards will
be too proud of you.”

Cassie snorted and said, “Don’t be too pleased with yourself either, Amelia. Do you know what Oscar
told me this morning? He said that you were filthy and made him sick, and he hasn’t divorced you only
because you’re pregnant. He didn’t think you’d be bold enough to have an affair in your condition.
Cheating was a real low move from you.” Amelia clenched her jaw. “Ms. Yard, if you have nothing else
to say to me, I’ll be hanging up.” Without waiting for a reply, Amelia immediately ended the call. When
Oscar returned with a few bags full of food, Amelia was facing away from the door with the blanket over
her. He didn’t know if she was asleep. Still holding on to his bags, Oscar approached Amelia only to be
greeted by her tear-stained face.

Taken aback, Oscar hurriedly set down his bags and pulled a chair over. He sat down and reached
over to dab the tears from her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” he asked tenderly. Amelia sat up,
brushing aside Oscar’s gesture of intimacy. She then asked, “Mr. Clinton, have you bought the food
yet? I’m hungry.” Oscar frowned, feeling as if a gulf had once again opened between himself and
Amelia. However, he pushed aside the nagging feeling that something was amiss and starting laying
out the food on the table. “Everything you listed is right here. Eat up.”



Amelia picked up a spoon and focused entirely on the spread that lay before her. She refused to even
glance at Oscar, much less playfully feed him as she used to do. The frown deepened on Oscar’s brow.
Looking at Amelia, he announced, “I’m hungry.” Amelia raised her head and looked at him
questioningly. “You’re hungry too? There’s another set of utensils here. Help yourself.” Oscar stared at
her. He asked in slight frustration, “Aren’t you going to feed me?” If this had happened before that
fateful conversation with Cassie, Amelia would have immediately played along with the greatest zest.

However, Amelia wasn’t in the mood at present. She only replied dully, “Please help yourself, Mr.
Clinton.” Oscar looked at her, probing. “Are you upset?” Amelia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m
perfectly happy, Mr. Clinton.” Oscar fumed. “Don’t smile if you don’t want to. You look hideous.” The
smile on Amelia’s face vanished. She resumed eating but found that she had lost her appetite
completely. Oscar put down his utensils. “What in the world is wrong with you?” Wordlessly, Amelia
brought another spoonful of rice to her mouth. However, Oscar stopped her by grabbing her wrist.
“Don’t eat if you don’t want to,” he said roughly. Amelia looked at him in bewilderment.

Her eyes slowly brimmed with tears. They spilled over, seemingly without her realizing. Ever since she
had gotten pregnant, Amelia felt as if she had become a lot weaker. She cried a lot more, and often.
Oscar’s heart was wrung at this sight. He reached forward and wiped her tears, then took her into his
arms all at once. In a low voice, he asked, “Why are you crying?” Amelia wrapped her arms tightly
around Oscar’s waist.

At that moment, Oscar seemed to be her only refuge in the world. Amelia permitted her sorrow to
course unrestrained through her, emerging as tears that ran onto Oscar’s shirt. After letting Amelia cry
for a minute or so, Oscar turned her to face him. Once again, he wiped away the tears on her face and
repeated, “Why are you crying?” Amelia looked at him with swollen eyes. “Mr. Clinton, do you really
think of me as a filthy woman?”

Oscar’s eyes grew dark. He tilted her jaw, forcing Amelia to look him in the eye while demanding, “Did
anyone say anything of that sort to you?” Amelia looked away and mumbled, “No.” “Don’t you lie to



me.” Amelia shook her head, once again directing her interest towards the food. “Mr. Clinton, let’s eat.
I’m hungry.” Oscar’s eyes remained steadfastly fixed on Amelia.

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