CHAPTER 129: CHAPTER 129: HEART FOR HEART

A few nights later, Justin Holden returned home later than usual.

In the living room, only a wall lamp was left lit. Jean Ellison was sitting on the sofa reading a book while waiting for him, and in the kitchen, there was still some warm food prepared.

Upon hearing the door open, she lifted her head, just about to say "You’re back," but was met with Justin Holden’s unusually stern and grave gaze.

He didn’t even take off his coat, instead, he walked straight over to her and showed her the screen of his phone.

On it was a brief report, its core content shocking.

Upon verification, within the last ten years’ list of all inmates and released individuals from Crestwell Women’s Penitentiary, there is no one by the name of ’Jean Ellison.’

Confirmed.

Jean froze, her heart stopped beating.

The blood in her body seemed to freeze instantly, and her limbs felt icy cold.

The color drained completely from her face, and her fingers unconsciously tightened around the book, her knuckles turning white.

Justin Holden’s gaze locked onto her, allowing no evasion, his voice deep and cold, carrying an unprecedented interrogative tone.

"Jean Ellison, who are you really?"

After the immense panic, came a sort of resigned calmness.

Jean put down the book, slowly stood up, met his sharp gaze, and instead of answering, she questioned back, her tone even carried a hint of violated defiance.

"Justin Holden, you investigated me, what right do you have to investigate my past?"

She took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound as though she had been insulted and hurt.

"Just because I’ve been in prison, you ended up minding, didn’t you? You think that a woman with a criminal record, who has served time, doesn’t deserve to live here, doesn’t deserve to appear under the same roof as you, or even deserve to take care of Jesse?"

Her emotions were heightened, and her voice rose a bit.

"Fine, if you care so much, disdain my past, I can leave with Jesse right now, and will not cling to you to embarrass you."

With that, she turned and was about to walk towards the children’s room, her movements fast, as if eager to escape immediately.

"I don’t mind!"

Justin Holden suddenly grabbed her wrist with great strength, stopping her.

His brows furrowed tightly, he looked at her with a complex expression.

"I’ve never looked down on you or despised you because of this."

Jean struggled for a moment, but didn’t break free, she lifted her head, her eyes reddened, her voice carrying stubbornness and grievance.

"Then why did you still go to check, why do you ask, if you don’t mind, don’t bring it up again. That time for me was a nightmare, no one wants to constantly bring up what happened in prison, can’t you let it go?"

Her argument was reasonable, her gaze was of a victim, agitated and resistant.

Justin Holden silently watched her, looked at her red eyes and agitated emotions, the force with which he held her wrist slightly relaxed.

His gaze remained deep, scrutinizing her face.

The more he looked, the more this face resembled Claire Caldwell, the gaze was strikingly similar.

He wasn’t swayed by her emotions, but instead directly threw out the most crucial question. His voice wasn’t loud, yet it exploded like thunder beside Jean Ellison’s ear:

"Did you meet Claire Caldwell in prison?"

All of Jean’s actions and expressions froze the moment she heard the name Claire Caldwell.

It was as if she was paused, her entire body stiffened on the spot, even her breathing seemed to stop.

The excitement and grievance on her face hadn’t yet faded, now mixed with an extreme shock.

For several long seconds, she didn’t react, just stared at Justin Holden with wide eyes, unable to believe what she heard.

Justin Holden was closely watching her every minute expression, not missing any subtle changes.

After a long time, Jean seemed to finally find her voice, answering extremely slowly, almost one word at a time.

"...Yes, I met her."

Her voice was dry and hoarse, yet sounded relatively calm.

"But not long after, she left the prison and was transferred somewhere else; later, I heard she died."

She lowered her lashes, hiding all the emotions in her eyes, adding a sentence that sounded like a powerless sigh.

"I suppose we were destined to meet in such a place."

Justin Holden’s heart was like being violently struck the moment she admitted "met".

His fingers tightened around her wrist unconsciously, his voice was taut, carrying a trace of urgency and expectation.

"Did she say anything to you in prison?" he pressed on, his eyes tightly fixed on her, "Did she mention anyone?"

Jean’s heart felt as if stabbed by a needle, a sharp pain spreading out.

She looked up, at Justin Holden’s bottomless eyes, now revealing a hint of expectation, suddenly feeling incredibly ironic and bleak.

He wanted to know if Claire Caldwell mentioned him, he was deluding himself.

Mention him for what, to say how cold and unfeeling he was, how heartless and unjust, or to say not even as a ghost would she spare him.

She shook her head, her voice flat and without any fluctuation.

"No, she didn’t mention anyone."

Suddenly, as if she thought of something, Jean turned the tables, mustering a courage as if burning bridges, looking straight at Justin Holden’s eyes, she asked, "Lawyer Holden, you seem very concerned about Claire, what was your relationship with her?"

This question, asked in the capacity of Jean Ellison, carried the perfect amount of curiosity and a hint of sourness.

Justin Holden was silent.

He released her hand, averted his gaze, looked out at the heavy night through the window, his side profile lines hard.

After a while, he finally spoke in a low voice, but it was evasive, clearly dodging the question.

"Nothing much, just an old acquaintance."

Old friends...

These two words, like a needle, pierced deeply into the depths of Jean Ellison’s heart, shattering her last faint thread of hope completely.

As expected.

In his heart, Claire Caldwell was never anything to him.

She wasn’t even worthy of being called an official ex-girlfriend, merely an insignificant old acquaintance, possibly even an embarrassment to him.

She suddenly recalled hearing whispers during college, questioning why Justin Holden would be with someone like Claire, who they said was as big as a hippo. Was it possible she had something against him?

Did he feel embarrassed back then too, and that’s why he never acknowledged their relationship?

Jean slowly lowered her head, hiding the surge of immense disappointment and weariness that flooded her eyes.

All the struggles, concealment, and pain seemed meaningless in this moment.

She stopped looking at him, her voice light as a feather, yet carrying an overwhelming fatigue and detachment: "Oh, really."

She turned away, no longer asking questions, nor looking at him. She walked silently to her bedroom and closed the door.

Leaning against the cold door panel, she slowly slid down to the floor, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders trembling silently.

Old friends.

What a ridiculous title.

She had loved him for so many years, given him her heart. Even though he was nothing, just a poor student, a junior intern lawyer, she was willing to be with him. She never thought about the future; as long as he was in it, it was the future she hoped for.

Outside the door, Justin Holden still stood in place, gazing out the window, his brows tightly knitted, his expression complex and unreadable.

Later, Samual Pryce showed up unexpectedly, claiming to have brought some documents for Justin Holden, and Jean was the one who opened the door for him.

Justin sat behind the desk, his face sullen, his fingers drumming unconsciously on the desktop.

Samual leaned against the sofa opposite, one leg crossed over the other, looking at him with an expression of disappointment.

"I mean, not to point fingers," Samual clicked his tongue, throwing the file folder onto the desk, "but your brain works just fine in court. Why is it like a concrete block when it comes to matters of the heart?"

Justin glanced at him coldly and said nothing.

Samual wasn’t fazed by his icy demeanor, continuing to criticize: "You actually went and checked her criminal record, and even brought up the prison issue in front of her. For heaven’s sake, is that something you can just casually mention? Anyone would blow up at you over that, I’d explode if it were me."

He leaned in a bit, lowering his voice: "And you actually mentioned Claire Caldwell in front of her, are you kidding me? Do you know how terrifying a woman’s intuition is? She’d immediately guess that your past with Claire wasn’t simple. You’re not wooing a woman, you’re digging your own grave."

Justin’s fingers drumming on the desk stopped, and his brows furrowed even more tightly.

He truly hadn’t considered these things.

"So what should I do now?"

He asked, his voice somewhat hoarse.

In this regard, he was indeed at a loss.

He had never actively pursued a woman before.

With a look of "Finally, you’re getting it," Samual straightened his posture and began imparting his "wisdom."

"What to do? Coax her, sweet talk her, buy some gifts, flowers, jewelry, handbags, women love these things. Most importantly,"

He pointed to Justin’s heart.

"You’ve got to show her your true heart, exchange sincerity for sincerity, get it? Don’t go around with a face like everyone owes you millions, you need to make her feel that you care about her, that you like her."

Exchange sincerity for sincerity?

Justin was slightly taken aback, his mind involuntarily conjuring up scenes from long ago.

Were things good between him and Claire Caldwell back then?

They seemed to be pretty good.

At least on the surface, things were calm, and there were seldom any arguments.

But why were they good?

Looking back now, that "goodness" seemed to be built on Claire’s one-sided, almost humble concessions and compromises.

She never seemed to have any demands.

If he said he was busy, she would just wait quietly.

If he forgot a date, she wouldn’t get upset.

Whatever he liked, she claimed to like as well.

Whatever he disliked, she never mentioned.

She always meticulously observed his expressions, catered to his preferences, centered everything around him.

She seemed to always carry a trace of fear in his presence?

Fear of upsetting him, of being broken up with.

Justin’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and a faint sting of bitterness welled up somewhere deep in his heart.

She really didn’t need to be like that.

He wasn’t that easy to anger.

Especially not at her.

He just wasn’t good at expressing himself.

Nor did he know how to handle a sudden relationship.

"Hey, what are you daydreaming about?" Samual waved a hand in front of his eyes, "Did you hear what I said? Sincerity, show her your true heart."

Justin pulled his drifting thoughts back, his gaze refocused, landing on the investigation document on Jean Ellison on the table, his eyes deepening even further.

He reached out, picked up the document from the table, and tossed it into the trash bin by the side.

Isn’t it just sincerity? He’d give it to her.