The Day I Stopped Waiting Was the Day He Started Begging novel Chapter 2

When she and York had first gotten married, it wasn't without conflict. She was endlessly annoyed by his suffocating possessiveness. While she looked docile and aloof, a rebellious streak in her bones despised his control.

However, their occasional cold wars always came and went in a flash.

At the end of the day, when things were good, he was completely addicted to her body. Whenever they fought, he would drag her to bed. If she threw a fit, he would pin her wrists and kiss her over and over again.

Between adults, there wasn't much that couldn't be resolved in bed.

That was, until their fight two years ago, when neither of them had been willing to yield.

As the memories rushed back, Madeline simply muted the group chat notifications, adopting an 'out of sight, out of mind' approach.

After finishing her drafted articles and handing them over to the editor-in-chief, she left work early. Tonight was her mother-in-law Seraphina James's birthday. Madeline picked out a gift and took a cab to The Yates Manor.

The taxi stopped outside the alleyway, and Madeline walked the rest of the way to the estate. The sycamore trees cast long shadows, and the only sound near and far was the rustling wind.

That was until a piercing, obnoxious car horn blared just a few feet behind her.

Arrogant and insufferable.

The Yates Manor was rumored to be a historic estate from a bygone era, surrounded by equally prestigious courtyard homes. This neighborhood was exclusively for the ultra-rich or the politically elite, mostly retired officials enjoying their twilight years with their grandchildren.

Therefore, vehicles stopping outside the alley was an unspoken rule here.

Who was being so blatantly disrespectful?

Madeline's heart skipped a beat. She instinctively looked up just as a pitch-black Range Rover drifted into the Yates family courtyard and slammed to a halt. Leaves fluttered wildly to the ground as the car door swung open and a man stepped out.

Seeing Madeline, he paused before speaking in a slow, deliberate drawl. "...Here to throw me a welcome party?"

Madeline had no idea he was returning today.

Her chest tightened as her gaze involuntarily locked onto York.

Even after two years, York maintained his facade of the polished gentleman, perfectly masking the rebellious degenerate underneath.

"The air in San Francisco must be incredibly nourishing," Madeline remarked, her face completely deadpan. "It clearly thickened your skin."

Whenever they fought in the past, it was always a battle of wits. Back then, he actually indulged her quite a bit. Behind the backs of the stuffy Yates family elders, he had even taken her out to shoot real firearms for fun.

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