Half-Hearted: Mr. Sinclair, Stop the Act!-Chapter 64: The Meaning of the WeChat Password
Make up.
These two words were like sharp blades, piercing Sienna Monroe’s eyes.
How many days have passed since Vivian Nash framed Stella Yates for pushing her, causing a miscarriage?
Just about a week.
She knew Vivian Nash wouldn’t give up on Caleb Sinclair so easily; she’d do everything to retain him. But what she never imagined was that Caleb Sinclair would forgive Vivian Nash so swiftly and easily.
His suspicion and anger towards Vivian Nash from that day seemed so fresh, vivid as yesterday.
But now, it all seemed like evidence of a joke.
How ridiculous.
The most absurd thing was her heart fluttered at his expressive concern and eagerness, and the unabashedly displayed affection, even though it had sunk to the bottom.
Too ironic.
To him, what did she really mean?
What did those three years of dating, those three years of marriage, mean?
Has even the child in her belly become so insignificant?
Scalding tears spilled out and slipped down her cheeks.
Her heart, beating violently, felt like a sponge soaked with water, swelling, aching, and making her feel nauseated.
Pressing her back against the door, Sienna Monroe raised her hand to clutch her chest tightly, taking deep breaths as the fine, dense pain belatedly crawled to her heart, finally spreading throughout her body.
Sniffling, she casually wiped the tears from her face, quickly picked out a set of pajamas, and rushed into the bathroom.
Coming out of the bathroom took an hour and a half.
Her agitated emotions gradually calmed down, but the redness in her eyes couldn’t be concealed. Caleb Sinclair noticed it immediately and hurriedly asked, "Why are your eyes so red? Did something happen?"
"It’s nothing; foam accidentally got into my eyes while washing my hair, took a while to rinse."
She had prepared this excuse before coming out.
Caleb Sinclair frowned, raising his hand to lightly touch her eyelids, "Why didn’t you call me? Is it better now?"
The worry and tension on his face once again reflected in her eyes.
Just like that.
His gaze toward her was always so passionate and gentle, filled with affection and concern.
But now, she firmly held onto the shadow of deception.
He didn’t love her that much.
Perhaps, he didn’t love Vivian Nash that much either; he just loved himself.
To attribute the word "selfish" to Caleb Sinclair was quite a shock to her.
Her impression of Caleb Sinclair was being overturned bit by bit by the truth, stripping away the superficially gentle demeanor.
The suppressed pain in the bathroom rose slowly once more; she clenched her fist, letting her nails dig into her palm.
She even attempted to force a false smile, but her lips felt stiff, difficult to open, and her voice was light and slow, "I’m fine now. It’s just a small matter."
Caleb Sinclair stroked her small face tenderly, "Be careful next time. Sit down; I’ll help blow-dry your hair."
"Okay."
Looking at the man in the mirror, no matter how many times or how long she looked, Caleb Sinclair always brought a sense of unfamiliarity.
She lowered her eyelids, and her hair was soon dried.
Once Caleb Sinclair went into the bathroom, she quickly grabbed his phone, switched to his WeChat account, and entered sw0619.
Successfully logged in to a brand new WeChat interface.
She paused in surprise.
Gaining an after-the-fact understanding of that secret.
sw. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
Representing the initials of Caleb Sinclair and Vivian Nash.
What about 0619?
Seemed like a date.
She racked her brain for related memories.
Oh, she remembered, the first post Vivian Nash made on her secret Instagram was on this day.
Using their initials and the date they got together as the password.
The meaning was self-evident.
Sienna Monroe felt like she was in endless darkness; her heart was being devoured bit by bit, with only heavy emotions silently flowing in her eyes.
The first page was clean, featuring only a chat box with a familiar profile picture.
The nickname was "Viv" followed by a red heart.
Clicking on "Me", his secondary profile picture and Vivian Nash’s were indeed couple-themed, the name also matching as "Dear".
Although she’d seen more provocative images, Sienna Monroe couldn’t stop her hand from trembling.
But the content of their chats pierced her heart more deeply.
Their chatting was relatively frequent, almost with daily records, with sweetness permeating their words before breaking up; Caleb Sinclair was indulgent and tolerant of Vivian Nash.
Whatever Vivian Nash wanted, Caleb Sinclair would generously buy; if she mentioned wanting shopping or lacked money, he’d transfer funds without hesitation.
All transactions started with five figures.
After Caleb Sinclair suggested breaking up, Vivian Nash continued messaging him daily, mostly with voice messages she opened one casually.
It was Vivian Nash softly sobbing, saying she missed him, couldn’t be without him, begging him to return and such.
Even Sienna Monroe couldn’t help but feel goosebumps.
Forty minutes ago, Vivian Nash sent a seventeen-second video, dressed in an alluring white, pure, desire-inducing camisole, with a pretty, pure, yet fragile face resembling an unstained white lotus.
Having probably just exited the bathroom, her nose and cheeks showed a hint of red as she lay on the bed still speaking of missing him.
Sienna Monroe felt numb, like her heart had been through ice water.
The past few days’ messages hadn’t received a reply from Caleb Sinclair.
But as she checked, the page showed no red numeral, indicating Caleb Sinclair had seen them, just without replied.
His daily logins to the secondary account to check Vivian Nash’s messages proved his concern for her.
Sienna Monroe sneered, selected several chat records, and took pictures using her phone.
This night remained sleepless for her.
She seemed caught in a deep whirlpool of self-doubt, perpetually perturbed by her six years with Caleb Sinclair.
She didn’t remember when she drifted off to sleep, waking at nine o’clock heavy and fatigued.
After a whole night of snow, it had stopped; the sky was overcast, the pear tree branches in the courtyard adorned with clusters of snow, painting a distinctly outlined, beautiful scene.
Auntie Miller quickly served breakfast at her arrival downstairs, speaking softly, "He left early at seven o’clock, said he had a flight after eight; seeing you sleeping deeply, he didn’t wake you. He specially instructed me to stay at the villa these days, take care of your meals, and most importantly, warm a cup of milk for you before bed."
"Okay."
Sienna Monroe responded with little emotion, eating a few bites before losing her appetite.
After gathering herself, she was about to tell the driver to head to the art gallery when her phone suddenly dinged.
[Cecilia York will arrive at Radiance Beauty Spa at 10:41 in the morning, unsure about the situation with Harrison Hayes, seeking advice from June Ewing. June Ewing is recently considering store expansion, wanting to enlarge underground businesses, and proposes you invest.]
