Chapter 90
Chapter 90
There was no reply on the phone.
She didn't know if the men was busy or just didn't bother to pick up his phone.
Violet thought about it and sent another one, "Mr. Johnson, I'll be waiting for you at the entrance of the
civil affairs bureau tomorrow at 9 a.m. If you don't reply, I'll take it as you agree?"
Louis was probably still annoyed at her for making a fool of himself, so he didn't bother to respond her.
Then she'll make the decision for him!
Violet stared at her phone, and he still didn't reply. She exhaled and sent another one.
"Mr. Johnson, I'll take that as a yes, so I'll see you tomorrow at 9 a.m!"
Sooner or later, they had to divorce.
She hoped he didn't stand her up tomorrow!
"Violet, it's time for dinner."
Isaac called out from the kitchen doorway.
"Oh good."
Violet put her phone in her pocket and rushed in to help.
"Wow, Isaac, it's only been a while and you and Evie make so many delicious dishes. You guys are so
good at what you do."
"Violet, I'm just an assistant. It was all Isaac's doing."
Evie said with a smile.
"Evie, you're great. You'll be a great helper in the future, whoever marries you will be blessed."
Violet picked up a dish and gave Isaac a look that meant something.
Without speaking, Isaac met her gaze with a slight pause in the smile on his face.
"Don't compliment me. I'm not getting married. I'm relying on you and Josie for the rest of my life."
Evie blushed, gave Isaac a playful look and ran out with the dishes.
"She's even shy." Violet gave a light laugh.
Isaac looked at her and said, "Violet, you can dislike me, but don't ever mess with me."
Did he see that she was trying to bring Evie together with him?
Violet looked at Isaac who was taking care of her daughter, pursed her lips and let out a sigh.
......
Balridge Manor.
Louis stood by the window, looking at the messages on his phone. His thin lips pursed in a sharp curve.
Was she that eager to divorce with him?
That she had made the decision for him?
Was the divorce so urgent because there was a next family waiting for her?
The scene of Violet and Isaac together inexplicably flashed in his mind, and Louis tugged the buttons
on his collar in annoyance. He was upset to the extreme.
The pants were tugged and he looked down and touched a pair of dark eyes.
Louis' annoyed mood slightly calmed down and squatted down to hug Luka, "What's wrong?"
The little one's little face was flushed and his eyes were dark and shiny, looking very spirited.
He was wearing a small apron with a lot of flour on it.
He did not feel uncomfortable after leaving his mother. Instead, he seemed to enjoy the atmosphere of
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It was probably because Grandma had him make pastries all afternoon.
Luka passed a pastry in his hand to his mouth with a look of anticipation.
"Louis, this is made by Luka. Just ready to eat and think of you first. Try it."
The old Mrs. Johnson was helped over with a smile on her face.
Louis felt warm instantly and took a bite on the pastry.
"It's good, it's delicious."
A light flashed in Luka's eyes, and her lips curved silently as he continued to bring the pastry to Louis'
mouth.
Watching the interaction between father and son, the old Mrs. Johnson's eyes flickered and she sighed.
"Look at this child. How understanding! If only Violet were here now, then I would be even happier."
What this meant was that she wanted Violet to come and raise Luka.
Grandma had the same idea as he had.
But Violet didn't think so.
That heartless woman. His grandma treated her so well but she wasn't grateful.
Louis chewing's movement paused and his eyes slightly sunken.
The old Mrs. Johnson observed his reaction and said, "Louis, you can remarry after divorce. I still say, I
only recognize Violet as my granddaughter-in-law. if you want your grandmother to live two more years,
you should go after Violet again."
She could feel the changes in her own grandson during this time.
He should had Violet in mind.
"Grandma, you're old, so don't bother. Let's go and let Luka accompany you to dinner."
Louis picked up Luka and did not reply to the old Mrs. Johnson.