The Substitute Bride Is Reborn and Loves Her Husband No more - Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Too soft for this
The wheels of the wheelchair creaked against the floor as Rose drove herself over to where Damien and Rolan were playing table tennis. Just then, the ball shot high into the air—Damien’s bat had hit it hard. The ball flew in Rolan’s direction. Rolan leapt up, smacking it back with equal force.

It was a full-on competition. Both of them were locked in, battling to beat each other. They were putting in serious effort.

Rose pressed her lips together and stopped pushing the wheelchair.

What was she thinking? she asked herself.

She was already starting to doubt her decision. Why had she even decided to tell Rolan in the first place? Emotions. They were messing with her head. She couldn’t go through with this. There was no point. What good would it do?

Rose regretted everything—but by the time she did, it was already too late. She had already called out, “Rolan, I have something important to discuss with you.”

Rolan flicked the ball away and set his bat down on the table. He walked toward her, taking slow, confident steps. A smirk played on his lips.

“What is it? What’s this important thing you want to talk about? Should we talk in private?”

At the same time, he turned to give Damien a smug look—one Rose didn’t catch.

Rose stayed quiet for a second. Then, without meeting Rolan’s eyes, she muttered, “I don’t have anything important to say. It was… a slip of the tongue.”

Rolan raised a brow. “Are you for real?” he asked, staring at her intently.

“Yes,” Rose said, keeping her voice neutral. “It was nothing. You two were having fun. Keep playing.”

As she moved the wheelchair to turn around, Damien finally joined in. He had also dropped his bat and walked over to her.

“Where are you going? You should hang out with us.”

Rolan glared at Damien, but Rose didn’t notice.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to help you?” Damien asked, his voice soft and kind, waving at her gently.

Rose looked at him and shook her head with a small smile. “No, I’m okay. You guys were having fun. Just keep playing. I’ll sit here and watch.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Damien nodded, listening to her obediently. “Rose, don’t worry. I’m going to win this game for you.”

Rolan clenched his fists, throwing Rose a wink. Rose rolled her eyes internally.

Cocky bastard. Who asked for his help? Who needs him to win?

If anyone should win, it should be Damien.

Actually… she didn’t even care about the game. Her head was too full of everything she hadn’t said. She was mad at herself for even starting to say anything to Rolan.

“I got a point in this round. Rose, are you proud?” Damien called out, showing his score.

Rolan’s fists clenched again. He looked at Damien with self-loathing.

Damn it, he thought. He was actually playing seriously because Rose was here.

And now Damien was using that to brag.

If I had known she’d be here, I wouldn’t have slacked off. He would’ve gone all in.

“I’m very proud of you,” Rose said to Damien with a soft smile, throwing a narrowed glance at Rolan. She loved seeing that look on his face—the frustration of not being the winner for once.

“You shouldn’t praise him,” Rolan muttered, eyes cold but with a teasing tone.

Rose shrugged, her face full of disgust. “Why not? He won. He got 40 points. You didn’t. And you still want me to praise you?”

Rolan nodded seriously. “Yes.”

Rose cursed him in her heart. Shameless, crazy bastard.

“I’m going to play again. This time, I’ll get more than 40 points. Rose, you better give me my reward when I do,” Rolan declared, turning back to the court, bat in hand.

Before Rose could object, he was already playing again with Damien.

The game was on. The sound of the ball smacking back and forth echoed through the air, rapid and relentless.

“I scored one,” Rolan announced smugly after Damien lost the round.

Damien gave a small, cold smile but said nothing. The match continued, their bats slamming the ball with force and precision.

Rose watched, slowly getting drawn into the tension of their rivalry. The game actually looked fun. She wished she could join—but her eyes drifted to her legs. They were still injured. Still useless.

“Is the game boring, Rose? Or are you enjoying it?” Rolan asked, catching her suddenly solemn expression.

“Yes,” Rose replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

Rolan seized that moment—the one where he should’ve hit the ball—to tag her instead. He missed the shot, and Damien won again.

“I won,” Damien said, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Yeah, you won,” Rose repeated, echoing his words like she was cheering for him.

The only difference? She wasn’t smiling.

“I didn’t… I couldn’t say anything to Rolan, Zara,” Rose said later that night, once she was back in her room.

Zara stared at her blankly, her thoughts unreadable.

“So you’re saying that when the moment came to tell Rolan, you freaked out? Couldn’t say a thing?”

“Yes. I freaked out,” Rose muttered, biting her lip, hating herself. But deep down, she also felt… calm.

“Why?” Zara asked. “Weren’t you talking big earlier? All those speeches about doing this, saying that…?”

“I know. I was just running my mouth. Bragging.” Rose sighed. “It was my emotions. They were controlling me. I lost it. I started saying things I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, is that it?” Zara folded her arms, watching her closely. “Don’t look so embarrassed.”

Rose turned red. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“It’s okay,” Zara said calmly. “Honestly, I kinda expected you’d give up halfway.”

Rose blinked. “What do you mean?”

Zara shrugged. “I know you, Rose. I know how you are.”

“So you knew I’d chicken out? And you didn’t stop me? You acted all supportive, but—”

“I was supporting you,” Zara interrupted with a chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just also kinda imagined you’d back down in the end.”

“Wow. So that’s it. You were playing me.”

“Nope. Just being realistic. You’re too soft.”

Zara laughed. Then finally said, “The food’s ready. I brought yours.”

She handed Rose a plate. Rose smiled faintly.

“Thanks, Zara. You’re a kind friend.”