Chapter 142 - 141. A New Lair
Sarah only told one other person about her departure: Amber. They didn’t meet or anything, however; Amber left the mansion after the whole Mason debacle to avoid seeing her mother and calming her. Sarah simply told her through the text, including the matter to support Vivian and kicked the third wife out.
Amber merely replied with [We’ll see], but that was already good enough. Sarah didn’t really care whether Amber and Vivian would team up for sure, but the idea of it stressed out the third wife was enough to make her forget the pain in her leg during rainy days.
Yes, it was a rainy day when Sarah left the mansion. The day when she usually stayed at home because her bad leg would start to throb. But on that day, there was nothing she wanted to do more than leave the bitter memory behind. She had destroyed the last remaining memory of her mother in that suffocating house, so there was no more reason to stay.
Perhaps destroying that one last attachment brought relief to her leg because she could barely feel the pain the whole time she was at the hair salon.
Another thing she couldn’t wait to get back: her hair color.
"Hmm...this feels a bit weird," Sarah narrowed her eyes at the reflection in the mirror, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It had been a while since I had this color."
Hajin, who always opted to wait for her instead of doing something else, was even quieter than usual. His eyes never left his princess as if he was trying to learn how to take care of her hair in the future.
Sarah knew that wasn’t the case, though. She looked at the keen grey eyes through the mirror, tilting her head. "You like it that much?"
Hajin smiled as he reached out for the strand of black hair that had grown past Sarah’s shoulder, bringing it to his lips. "It’s the color you have when I first saw you," he murmured against the black lock.
"Stop flirting," Sarah turned away to free her hair from the bodyguard’s hold and hid the blush on her cheek. "Let’s go and see our new place."
Hajin chuckled, savoring the word ’our’ rolling out of his princess’s lips. He held her waist and softly pecked her reddened cheek--which he almost never did, the aggressive Casanova that he was. Sarah threw him a sharp glance, but she didn’t pull herself away from him or the hand holding hers.
Her leg wasn’t hurting, and neither was her heart. The sky was gloomy, but not the new home they came into.