Seven Years to Unlove You Chapter 2

When the car returned to the Hassell estate, Leo ordered someone to take me to the bathroom to wash up. I refused the maids’ help, only asking them to pick out a long dress, one that covered my ankles, from my old wardrobe.

They rummaged for a while, finally pulling out a modest, long-sleeved dress, almost like a student’s uniform, from a corner amidst various fashionable clothes.

No one defined what a student should wear, but looking at myself in the mirror, I did indeed resemble a student more than my former flamboyant style.

I remembered receiving my acceptance letter from a top international design school before the kidnapping. Now, three months had passed since the enrollment deadline.

“Thank you.”

The maids looked utterly stunned, clearly not expecting their young mistress to thank them.

But after everything that had happened, I understood perfectly: I was essentially no different from them. They were maids hired by the Hassell family; I was a daughter hired by the Hassell family.

Pushing the door open, I saw Leo waiting for me at the top of the stairs. He leaned casually against the railing, his eyes lazily scanning me up and down, then he scoffed.

“Kirsten, what game are you playing now? Dressed like that.”

*Too plain?* Leo thought this was another one of my childish ploys for attention, but I only wanted to cover my scars.

I followed Leo into the dining room. The room was silent until Leo gestured for me to come forward. Only then did I notice Mr. and Mrs. Hassell sitting at the dining table, looking worried.

Mrs. Hassell saw me and almost rushed over. She stumbled, and a woman beside her gently helped steady her.

“Mrs. Hassell, please don’t worry. Ms. Hassell has returned safe and sound, hasn’t she? Ms. Hassell, Mrs. Hassell has been so worried about you that her hair has turned gray.”

I knew this woman; she was Leo’s secretary. Claire.

Claire had naturally flowing black hair, wearing the simplest, most unassuming turtleneck sweater and jeans, yet a beautiful rose gold necklace hung around her neck.

I was “safe and sound,” while Mrs. Hassell had worried herself sick. The moment Claire spoke, I transformed from a victim into an unfilial daughter of the Hassell family.

Mrs. Hassell held me, weeping, while the woman comforted her. But I couldn’t cry. I looked at Leo, and his eyes seemed to say I was a heartless person.

Finally, Mr. Hassell spoke, his voice firm, interrupting them. “Stop holding Kirsten, let her come and eat.”

Mrs. Hassell wiped her tears. “My fault, my fault. My darling has suffered so much these past months, she must not have eaten properly. Come, Auntie made your favorite fish chowder!”

Mrs. Hassell pulled me to sit between her and Mr. Hassell. Leo sat opposite me, and Claire sat beside him.

Such a perfect picture of a family.

I looked at the food in my bowl—a feast of colors, aromas, and flavors. I had almost forgotten what normal food looked like. I yearned to drop my chopsticks and just grab it with my hands, stuffing it into my mouth.

The closer I got to the city highway, the stricter the sanitation management became. Gradually, I couldn't find any more trash heaps, which meant no food. So I had been starving for almost three days, surviving only on tree leaves.

Under everyone’s gaze, I forced myself to pick up the bowl and shovel rice into my mouth with chopsticks. Even so, I still caught Claire’s mocking gaze; she ate daintily, in small bites, displaying her elegance.

Leo, witnessing this, naturally looked even more disgusted with me, yet at Mrs. Hassell’s urging, he reluctantly picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and placed it on my plate.

I thought that even the blandest porridge and steamed buns, which I used to find hard to swallow, I could now devour. But looking at the tempting sweet and sour pork, and realizing Leo had personally put it there, my stomach churned with nausea.

“Darling, eat. Leo knows you like sweet and sour, so he specifically asked Auntie to add this dish.”

*Nonsense.* Leo had no idea what I liked. Conversely, I knew all his preferences by heart. For instance, gold—he favored rose gold.

Seeing my hesitant chopsticks, Mr. Hassell asked with concern, “What’s wrong, darling? Did you argue with Leo on the way back? Don’t worry, after dinner, I’ll give him a good talking-to.”

“Dad!” Leo exclaimed, perhaps feeling this made him lose face in front of Claire.

I shook my head silently, overcoming the physiological revulsion, and brought the sweet and sour pork to my mouth with my chopsticks.

But the moment I swallowed, I threw up.

Leo’s expression was startled. I immediately stood up from my chair, covering my head and retreating to a corner.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll eat it, please don’t hit me!”

Everyone was shocked. Mrs. Hassell’s tears flowed again as she came to embrace me. “Did those people abuse you, darling? Tell me, did they?”

Mr. Hassell and Leo also approached. Mr. Hassell’s expression was pained, looking at me with heartache.

Leo, however, frowned, remaining silent, his face grim.

*What does this mean? Didn’t the kidnappers threaten the Hassell family, saying that if the ransom wasn't paid, their adopted daughter would experience abuse?*

*Why are they asking me now if I was mistreated?*

Actually, giving me stale bread and spoiled rice wasn’t really abuse, especially compared to the slop I ate afterward.

I was just so terrified, terrified of the feeling that my life was in Leo’s hands.

The kidnappers had negotiated directly with him, but he chose to abandon me. He hated me that much.

I suppose that’s where the physical nausea came from.