Bullied and Dumped, But She Won in the End (Adriana) novel Chapter 167

**When Time Tried to Heal Me But I Refused to Listen by Kael Niro Senn**
**Chapter 167: The Other Child**

At the table, most of the people were blissfully unaware of the significance of the moment unfolding before them, but Irene was acutely aware. She had been observing Curtis with a keen eye, and tonight, everything clicked into place. It was as if a veil had been lifted; he was not merely playing a part. No, he genuinely loved Adriana. This realization struck her with the intensity of sunlight piercing through a heavy cloud cover.

Curtis was typically the kind of man whose mere gaze could freeze the atmosphere in a room, sending shivers down the spines of those who dared to cross him. People knew better than to provoke him. Yet, here he was, engaged in light-hearted conversation, chuckling, and exchanging pleasantries as if he were an ordinary man. Perhaps he wasn’t as untouchable as the world had painted him to be.

Meanwhile, in the quaint fishing village, a different story was unfolding.

Matthew had tracked down Michael, who was propped up on a crutch, lending a hand to a group of workers unloading boxes from a seafood truck. The sight was striking. Michael had lost his left leg, yet the rest of him appeared robust. His skin bore the rich tan of someone who toiled under the sun day in and day out, his beard was rugged, and streaks of gray threaded through his hair. There was nothing left of the polished heir from Harborton’s wealthiest family.

“Hey, Mike!” one of the workers called out, a broad grin spreading across his face as he tossed a crate onto the truck bed. “Heard your kid aced it again! The exam results are out, and it looks like we’ve got another top scorer from our town!”

Michael nodded, a smile breaking across his face, radiating warmth. “Yeah, he did really well this time.”

Matthew stood a short distance away, leaning against his car, choosing to remain still as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

The pride etched on Michael’s face was palpable. It was a profound kind of pride, one that stemmed from simple joys rather than from wealth or legacy. Matthew found himself staring for what felt like an eternity, a heavy silence enveloping him. A bitter twist of emotion coiled within him. He felt a deep sense of pity for Curtis, a quiet, gnawing pity that left a sour taste in his mouth.

Even if he harbored plans to take Adriana from Curtis, he couldn’t shake off the ugliness of the situation. Here was a father who had turned his back on his own son due to an arranged marriage, a man who had fled to this tiny village, remarried, and devoted all his affection to another child. What a wretched way to live.

“Dad, stop trying to lift those. I’ll help Tom,” came the voice of a tall boy emerging from the warehouse. He was easily six foot two, with broad shoulders and a tank top that clung to his back, showcasing his physique. His skin shimmered under the afternoon sun, beads of sweat glistening on his arms.

Denton Lincoln was the embodiment of youth—strong, bright-eyed, and brimming with vitality. He effortlessly picked up a hefty box of clams and tossed it onto the truck without breaking a sweat.

The resemblance to Michael was striking, impossible to overlook. There was even a hint of Curtis in him, though he was younger, his features still untouched by the weight of life’s burdens.

“Dad, sit down for a minute,” Denton urged, his voice laced with concern. “Grab a Coke or something. You shouldn’t be out here with that leg. Mom’s already got lunch ready. Once we’re done, we’ll head home.”

Michael chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with joy. He nodded, that simple smile radiating a peace that no amount of wealth could ever purchase.

Matthew continued to observe them in silence, the weight of his thoughts palpable. Finally, he turned to his assistant, his voice barely above a whisper. “He walked away from billions. From everything. And now he calls this happiness. Does he truly believe that’s worth it?”

He paused, his tone dropping even lower. “Did he ever spare a thought for Curtis?”

It had been an arranged marriage, sure—but that had still been his choice back then. Curtis hadn’t chosen any of it; he hadn’t even chosen to be born into that chaotic life.

A dry laugh escaped Matthew’s lips, the absurdity of it all striking him. It was almost like reliving the mess of his own parents’ lives all over again.

His father had spent years chasing after women, leaving behind a trail of illegitimate children. None of it had ever been resolved.

“He doesn’t resent Curtis for who he is,” his assistant remarked quietly. “He resents him because he never cared about Curtis’s mother.”

Matthew fell silent, pushing the door open and stepping out into the salty air, the scent of the sea filling his lungs.

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