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The Old Me 19

The Old Me 19

Chapter 19 

288 Vouchers 

Chapter 19 

As the motorcycle was about to disappear from sight, Frederick snapped back to reality, turned around, and strode quickly toward the Rolls-Royce he had driven here. 

On Pineview Road. 

The red and blue motorcycle sped by, with the black Rolls-Royce in hot pursuit. 

Sitting on the back of the motorcycle, Hannah glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the Rolls-Royce following closely behind. She patted Abigail on the shoulder and leaned in to shout in her ear. 

“Frederick is still chasing us. Shake him off.” 

“Okay.” 

The moment Abigail finished speaking, she gripped the handlebars tightly, twisted the throttle, and executed a perfect drift into a nearby side road. 

The motorcycle’s drift kicked up yellow dust from the ground, obscuring Frederick’s view. 

When the dust finally settled, Abigail was nowhere to be seen. 

Frederick pulled over to the side of the road and slammed the steering wheel hard. 

He had never known that his usually gentle and sensible wife actually had such a ‘hidden’ side. 

Abigail’s drift just now was so smooth and effortless-it was obvious she had practiced riding motorcycles for many years. 

But in the eight years they had been married, she had never shown the slightest sign of it. 

Before marrying Abigail, Frederick’s heart and mind had been entirely occupied by Shannon. Even though the Kemp family and the Briggs family were close and often visited each other, he had never thought to get to know Abigail. 

Not before the marriage, and even less so after. 

In his memory, whenever Abigail appeared before him before their marriage, she was always dressed in the same classic Chanel-style suit, her long black hair perfectly smooth and draped over her shoulders. 

After marriage, the only thing that changed was that her Chanel suits were replaced by elegant socialite dresses, and her hair was pinned up with a pearl hair clip. She was the picture of a nearly perfect wife and mother. 

Looking back now, it seemed Abigail had been pretending all along. 

She had hidden her true self, suppressed her nature, and played the role of the dutiful wife and mother in front of ev- eryone for eight years. 

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14:45 

Chapter 19 

At this moment, Frederick even felt a bit of admiration for Abigail. 

1288 Vouchers 

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Frederick took out his phone and told his assistant to contact the private detective again to locate Abigail’s current whereabouts. 

Five minutes later, the assistant sent Frederick the location. 

He entered the address into the GPS, restarted the car, and headed toward Abigail’s location. 

Meanwhile. 

Abigail rode the motorcycle with Hannah away from Pineview Road. After dropping her off at her place in London, she called Jacob. 

The call was answered after just two rings. 

Jacob’s magnetic voice came through: “We just parted for a little while, and you already miss me?” 

Hearing this, Abigail blushed and cleared her throat softly: “When did you become so glib?” 

Jacob sighed lightly, his tone full of grievance: “It’s only because we’ve been apart for so long. I’m afraid if I go back to being as wooden as before, I’ll lose my wife again.” 

Seeing him steer the conversation off course, Abigail quickly spoke up to bring it back: “Alright, I called to ask when you’ll be off work. I’ll come pick you up.” 

“I might be late tonight. I have a video conference to attend. Why don’t you look around for a bit, and I’ll message you when I’m done,” Jacob replied. 

“Okay, then get back to work. See you tonight.” 

With that, Abigail hung up the phone. 

She put away her phone, rode her motorcycle to a nearby park, and planned to wait until sunset before heading to Ja- cob’s company to meet him. 

Abigail parked the motorcycle, unzipped the jacket of her riding suit to reveal the strapless camisole underneath, and walked toward a bench by the road. 

She had only taken two steps when someone grabbed her wrist from behind, and Frederick’s familiar voice sounded. 

“Abigail, there’s no one else here now. Let’s have a proper talk.” 

“Alright?” 

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14:45 

The Old Me

The Old Me

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Status: Ongoing Type:
The Old Me Summary & Review: The Old Me

Abigail Briggs had been married to Frederick Kemp for eight long years. On the outside, their marriage seemed peaceful — even ideal — but beneath that calm surface lay years of quiet sacrifice and loneliness. Abigail had built her entire world around Frederick and their young son, Timothy, believing that patience, obedience, and unconditional love would eventually win her husband’s affection. Yet, deep down, she knew something had always been missing — Frederick’s heart had never truly belonged to her.

Throughout their marriage, Abigail secretly followed Frederick’s ex-girlfriend, Shannon Perez, on Instagram. Shannon was the woman Frederick once loved deeply but lost because of his mother’s disapproval. One ordinary day, as Abigail scrolled through Shannon’s social media feed, she stumbled upon something that shattered her calm exterior — a photo of Frederick’s will.

In bold letters, it read: “I bequeath all of my property to Shannon Perez.”

For a long, paralyzing moment, Abigail couldn’t breathe. The world around her froze. Why would her husband, who had shared eight years of marriage and a child with her, leave everything he owned to another woman — his ex-lover?

The truth behind Frederick’s decision came to light soon after. Inside his office at Beacon Law Firm, his friend Benson Acosta questioned him about the will. “Fred, why are you leaving everything to Shannon? What about Abigail?”

Frederick, in his usual calm and emotionless tone, explained that their son, Timothy, would take care of Abigail after his death. He described Abigail as a “gentle woman” who had never raised her voice, implying she wouldn’t be angry even if she discovered the truth.

When Benson asked why Frederick didn’t just divorce Abigail and reunite with Shannon, Frederick fell silent. After a long pause, he said something that revealed the cold reality of his heart: Shannon was meant for romance, not marriage. Abigail, on the other hand, was suitable for the role of a lifelong companion — dependable, calm, and unexciting. “At the end of my life,” he said quietly, “I want Abigail by my side.”

What Frederick didn’t know was that Abigail had been standing outside his office door, holding a lunchbox of his favorite smoked beef ribs. She had overheard every word.

But instead of bursting into the room in anger or tears, Abigail remained composed. True to her gentle nature, she simply dropped the food into a trash can and walked away. Her steps were steady, but her heart felt heavier than ever.

For the first time, she didn’t want to go home. She got into a taxi, handed the driver three hundred dollars, and told him to “just go anywhere.”

As the city lights blurred past the window, Abigail reflected on her life and the choices that had led her here. Her marriage to Frederick had always been a business arrangement. It wasn’t built on love or passion, but on convenience and family expectations. She had entered the marriage hoping that her devotion might someday change things.

But love, she realized, cannot be earned through silence.

After their wedding, Abigail learned that Frederick had never truly moved on from Shannon. In time, she uncovered more details about their past — how Frederick and Shannon had once been deeply in love for five years, separated not by lack of affection but by his mother’s interference.

Mariana Kemp, Frederick’s mother, had despised Shannon for her poor background and family history. Shannon’s father was an alcoholic, and her mother had remarried and left her behind. Worse, Shannon suffered from a hereditary illness — hemolytic anemia. Mariana found this completely unacceptable. She begged Shannon to leave Frederick and even threatened suicide to make her point.

In the end, Shannon walked away. And Frederick, though heartbroken, obeyed his parents and married Abigail instead.

Over the years, Abigail fulfilled every duty expected of her. She cared for Timothy, managed the house, respected her in-laws, and stayed out of Frederick’s personal matters. She never complained, never argued, never demanded more. She believed that her patience and hard work would eventually earn her husband’s respect and affection.

But she was wrong. Her silence wasn’t seen as strength — it was taken as weakness. Her endurance didn’t earn her respect — it earned her contempt.

When she finally returned home that evening, it was already past 9:00 p.m. Inside, Frederick was helping Timothy with his homework, his usual expression serious and focused. Without even looking up, he scolded her gently: “Why didn’t you answer my call this afternoon? Timothy waited two hours for you.”

Timothy, mirroring his father’s tone, added coldly, “Mom, you do nothing at home every day. How could you forget to pick me up?”

In the past, Abigail would have immediately apologized, lowering her head and blaming herself. But this time, something inside her had shifted.

She remembered Shannon’s Instagram post from a few days ago — a cheerful photo at an amusement park where Timothy was chatting with Shannon affectionately. It was a reminder of how close her own son felt to the woman her husband still loved.

So instead of apologizing, Abigail said calmly, “I’m going back to work. From tomorrow, the housekeeper will pick Timothy up.”

Both Frederick and Timothy were stunned. Frederick asked, “Why do you suddenly want to go back to work?”

Abigail didn’t flinch. “Nothing major. Timothy’s growing up, and I want a life of my own.”

She left the room before anyone could say another word.

In her bedroom, she opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a small notebook — one she hadn’t touched in years. Inside were five handwritten entries — five wishes she had written down before her marriage but never fulfilled. As she read them, tears welled in her eyes.

She realized she had spent her entire adult life living for others — for her husband, her son, and her in-laws — but never once for herself.

That night, as the lights of Oceancrest Estates shimmered outside her window, Abigail made a silent promise.

She was done being the quiet, obedient wife. Done living in the shadow of another woman.

The woman who once defined herself as Frederick’s wife — the “gentle” and “harmless” Abigail — no longer existed.

For the first time, she wanted to rediscover herself — to become someone new. Someone free.

And though she didn’t say it out loud, her heart whispered the words that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another:

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