Resent Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 285

Chapter 285 The Thought of Being With Him Makes Me Retch

Brendan was strapped for choices. This was the only one he had left. “You’re the one who kept her
company for the longest time. She would at least grant you the chance to talk to her, I just know it. So
please tell her… That if she keeps this up, none of us will be able to save her from imprisonment.”

One more day of Deirdre staying in that cell was one more day of him losing sleep. He could not bear
it.

It was as Brendan had predicted. She allowed Sam to meet her.

She was a blind woman who had discarded any care for personal grooming. By the time Sam saw her,
her disheveled hair and dirty clothes painted the picture of a mad woman abandoned in an asylum.
Sam’s chest hurt.

He picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and began to speak. “Miss McKinnon? Please… Let’s
stop this, alright? Of all people, you should know fully well how this might end if you hold on like this.
The only result you’ll get is incarceration. And for what?”

Deirdre stared through the window nonchalantly. “If you came here just to talk me into backing down,
then goodbye.”

She rose.

With a pang, Sam suddenly blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

She stiffened.

He balled his hands into fists, his heart tortured by guilt. “I knew she was fake too, and yet I said
nothing.. There were so many times-so many chances to tell you the truth, and I said nothing! I



betrayed your trust …and I’m so sorry!”

“But I’ve never blamed you for any of this, Sam,” Deirdre replied evenly. She was so placid, one might
wonder if she was just an animated corpse. “You were just carrying out orders, weren’t you? You had
no reason to go against Brendan for my sake. You shouldn’t have done that. So, no. You don’t have to
apologize. I’m not an unreasonable woman.”

Her answer only made Sam suffocate.

The police officer on duty told her the time was up. Deirdre turned to the phone and finished her
thought.” Brendan sent you to talk me into standing down, didn’t he? Then pass my message to him: I
know nothing will come out of this fight. I know it is a hopeless, fruitless cause. But I’d rather die in
prison than die in his prison. He disgusts me. Breathing the same air with him makes me retch. I’d
rather be in jail.”

She spun on her heel and walked away.

#

Sam returned to Brendan and relayed all of her messages but the last part. He looked down, looking
clearly perturbed. Sharp-eyed as ever, Brendan demanded, “What? Are you hiding something from
me?” Sam obliged and, with marked difficulty, repeated Deirdre’s words.

Brendan covered his eyes with the back of his hand. His lips were trembling. “So that’s what she said,
huh? She’d rather go to prison than be with me. She’d rather suffer than see me again?”

Sam said nothing.

Brendan clenched his fists tightly. God, his heart was wringing in pain. It felt worse than the pain of the
knife sinking into his abdomen.



How could this be? Deirdre did not use to be like this!

She had loved him. Unconditionally, sacrificially. She would have thrown away her dignity for him. He
used to leave her as soon as he was done screwing her, and she used to fight back tears and

disappointment just so she could smile and bid him goodbye.

Once, he had been particularly inebriated. It had brought out the worst in him. He had known he was
venting on Deirdre and yet he had kept shouting Charlene’s name like a man possessed.

And what had she done?

She had forced her tears back. Her lips had been quivering as she’d said, “I know you think I’m a fool,
Brendan. But I really, really wanna be with you. Forever.”

That was what she had said back then. But now?

She hated him; he disgusted her. She would rather go to prison if it meant she could keep him away!

Brendan was hyperventilating. It would have hurt less if someone had yanked out his heart right there
and then. Something was missing from him now-something important.

It was her smile.

It was her helpless, downcast eyes.

It was her.

And no part of her was ever going to reappear in his life, was it?



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