The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate

Martin caught a glimpse of the embarrassment hidden in her smile through the rearview mirror, and it made him frown, but he kept

it to himself and just quietly drove the family home.

As soon as they got home, Louis couldn't wait to show Renata the design drawing, "Hey, Yoli whipped up the blueprint for the

manor. Take a look, whatcha think?"

Renata, who'd been zoning out on the balcony staring at the yard, perked up the moment she heard "Yoli" and hurriedly sat up

from her chair, asking anxiously, "Where's Yoli?"

Louis was used to her topsy-turvy way of talking and assumed she was asking about the design drawing. He quickly passed them

to her saying, "See? Yoli designed it for us."

Renata hastily put on her reading glasses and took the drawing, her expression softening with nostalgia and contentment as she

looked them over, "That's lovely, really beautiful. Our Yoli is so thoughtful, knows exactly what | like."

"Yeah," Louis agreed, comforted by the look in her eyes.

Martin and Marian were also looking on.

Martin, noticing the couple's fondness for the designs, couldn't help but glance at Marian. Marian, her eyes landing on the design

drawing Renata was holding, seemed to harbor a mix of conflict and complexity, not quite sharing the joy.

"Marian, cwithto the study," Martin said in a hushed tone.

Marian, puzzled, glanced back at Martin, who had already started heading upstairs.

After a moment's hesitation, Marian followed. She entered the study behind Martin, not quite sure what he wanted to discuss.

Martin was already at the desk and turned to look at her, "Close the door."

With a bit of trepidation, Marian did as she was told and asked hesitantly, "Martin, is there something you wanted to talk about?"

"There's no one here; you don't have to act so close," Martin said, looking at her.

Marian let out a reluctant "Oh", dropping the act, "So what do you want to talk about?"

She knew she wasn't the real Yolanda.

Two years ago, Martin had shown her the paternity test results and they'd struck a deal: she'd play the role of Yolanda until the real

one returned or until the Frost family's elders passed away. In return, Martin had invested in her father's hotel, which was nearly

bankrupted by Brandon, saving her family's business.

Their collaboration had been smooth over the past two years.

Marian didn't mind this arrangement and had even grown fond of the identity of Yolanda. The Frost family showered her with love

and gave her anything she asked for, making her feel at hin a foreign land.

Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if she might actually be the real Yolanda. How else could she have Yolanda's bracelet? But

the DNA results Martin had shown her confirmed they weren't blood-related.

She even suspected that Martin might have mixed up the samples and thought about doing another DNA test with the Frost family

members.

"Where did that design cfrom?" Martin ignored her state of getting lost in thought.

"Of course, | designed it myself," Marian snapped back to reality, facing Martin with confidence.

"It doesn't look like your style." Martin remarked, "Marian, | can pay to have your ntagged to the design, but | don't want the

Frost family or the project tainted with accusations of copying or plagiarism."

It would be an indelible stain.

Marian's expression faltered, but considering that it was just a toddler's plaything that wasn't likely to be significant, and given the

vastness of the world and the unlikelihood of that little kid running into any trouble, she decided to take a gamble, "Designer's

styles are prone to change, you know. You never specified this style before, so | deviated a bit."

"Where's the original draft?" Martin didn't want to take any risks, "lI want to see the original one."

After a pause, Marian nodded, "Alright, follow me."

Marian led Martin to her room and booted up her computer. There was indeed a design draft on her computer, quite similar to the

one she had shown Louis.

"Here, the original is right here," Marian pointed at the computer screen, showing Martin.

Martin glanced at the screen. It was generally similar, with only minor color differences, which could be attributed to monitor color

discrepancies. After all, one was printed and the other was on a screen.

Martin looked at Marian. Marian met his gaze squarely, "You believenow?"

"Sorry," Martin said apologetically and turned to leave.

"Wait," Marian called out to him, "I think there's still something off about this design. | want to make schanges."

"That's something you should discuss with grandpa and grandma. It's their call."

With that, Martin opened the door and left.

Marian watched the door close, took a deep breath, and after a moment of silence, closed her laptop and went downstairs to find

Louis, suggesting she wanted to revise the design.

Louis was puzzled, "It looks great as it is. Why change it? Revising is a hassle and hard work; there's no need."

"But | just feel it's not perfect yet." Marian cooed, clinging to Louis' arm, "lI want to create an even better manor for you guys."

Louis doted on her, and despite feeling there was no need for changes, he couldn't resist Marian's charm. He patted her hand

reassuringly, "Alright, alright. | just don't want you to overwork yourself; that's all."

Marian hugged his shoulder, "It's fine. As long as you're happy, | don’t mind the hard work."

Louis got sweet-talked by her and couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear, but still couldn't help but advise her, "Take care of

yourself; don't run yourself ragged, okay?"

"I know; don't worry."

Getting Louis's approval made Marian's day, and with a cheeky tilt of her head, she beamed at Louis, her eyes smiling, "Well then,

Grandpa, I'm off to work."

"Go on, go on." Louis patted the back of her hand, "I'm gonna go check on your grandma."

"Alright. Grandpa, remember to hit the hay early."

After giving her sweet little reminder, Marian said her goodbyes to Louis and headed back to her room.

Louis went to look for Renata.

Their room was connected to a small study and an open-air balcony.

Renata was sitting at the desk, fiddling with her cell phone while wearing reading glasses, looking both confused and anxious.

"What's up, old girl?" Louis approached her, worried.

Renata turned to look at him, her expression as pitiful as a child's, "lI want to call Yoli, but | can't find Yoli's number."

Louis guessed she'd forgotten how to use the phone again.

After her Alzheimer's got worse these past two years, her memory was practically goldfish-grade, hardly remembering people, let

alone how to use her cell phone, which she'd forget how to operate every now and then.

And yet, although she had virtually no long-term memory left for most things, she remembered that girl named Sophia especially

well, always wanting to find her every now and again.

Louis had always had a good impression of Sophia, but with today's incident of Daniel being so angry he had a cerebral

hemorrhage and was hanging between life and death in the hospital, he had smixed feelings about her.

Brandon was someone he'd watched grow up, and he knew him well; although always a bit cold and distant, he had always been

dutiful to his parents. But today, to go this far, he was inclined to believe Marian's side of the story, fearing that Sophia had

pressured Brandon into taking drastic measures.

He had heard bits and pieces about Sophia and Brandon's marriage and knew that Sophia's family, riding on the fact that she

married Brandon, hadn't hesitated to milk the Crawley family for all they're worth, sometimes even crossing the line. So, from a

parental standpoint, he totally got why Daniel and Patricia would oppose the marriage.

If it were him, he'd have broken them up too.

He just hadn't expected Brandon, who allegedly had no feelings for the girl, to get his dad so worked up this tthat he had a

cerebral hemorrhage. This made Louis worry and wonder if he should reconsider setting Yolanda and Brandon up.

Renata, seeing Louis just staring at her without saying a word, pushed him a bit impatiently, "I want to call my Yoli."

Louis snapped back to reality, trying to persuade her, "Yoli has gone to bed. Let's look for her tomorrow, okay?"

"That's not my Yoli." Renata's stubborn streak kicked in, "If you won't call her, then I'll go find my Yoli myself."

With that, she turned to leave.

Louis quickly grabbed her, not daring to be too stubborn and coaxed her, taking her phone, "Alright, alright, I'll make the call."

While saying this, he flipped to Sophia's contact.

Looking at the unfamiliar profile picture and thinking of Daniel in the ICU, his emotions were all over the place. He hesitated, faking

a call and trying to trick her with the last call log, "See, called her. No answer. She's probably asleep by now. How about we try

again tomorrow?"

But the usually confused old lady seemed somewhat lucid tonight, possibly stirred up by the design drawing, and actually saw

through his little trick, "Even you're fooling me. You clearly didn't call."

She snatched the phone away in a huff and made a video call to Sophia.

Sophia had just bathed Theresa and was blow-drying her hair, getting ready to tuck her in with a bedtstory.

But Theresa, who usually loved storytime, seemed a bit distracted, occasionally glancing at the door and then turning to ask her,

"Mommy, why hasn't Daddy cback yet?"

She had asked the squestion earlier at dinner, and once more before the bath.

Brandon had actually sent her a message before dinner, saying he was still tied up with work and wouldn't be able to chome

for dinner, telling her and Theresa to go ahead and eat.

"Daddy's still busy with work." Sophia softly told her, "He'll be back later, okay?"

Theresa puzzled, "How much later?"

Sophia couldn't answer her directly, opting for a roundabout way of convincing her, "I don't know yet either. How about you go to

sleep first and I'll wake you up when Daddy comes home, deal?"

Theresa nodded hesitantly, "Okay."

But she made Sophia promise, "Mommy, you must remember to wakeup then."

"Of course," Sophia kissed her forehead, coaxing her to lie down beside her.

Just as Theresa was about to drift off, Sophia's phone suddenly rang.

Almost instinctively, Theresa's eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed, alerting Sophia, "Mommy, the phone."

Sophia looked at her daughter's overly nimble bed-exiting move with a bit of amusement, touched her hair with a tinge of

helplessness, and picked up the phone, only to see it was Renata calling.

Theresa was already anxiously leaning in, "Mommy, is that daddy?"

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