“That’s my question!” he snarled with a coldness that reverberated from his throat. “You had your father beg for a divorce! Could you stoop any lower?!”
Abigail did a double take-Lionel had actually begged Henry just to help her get a divorce?
She felt a stuffy sensation over her chest, and suddenly could not breathe.
Diarmuid furiously grabbed her chin then, “Have I not done right by you? Is your heart really made of ice? Huh?!”
Abigail looked him straight in the eye then, and saw his disappointment, heartache, and desolation.
Her lips were trembling she wanted to say something, but did not know where to start.
Eventually, she blinked back her tears and braced herself, snapping, “Yes, I want a divorce that badly! Oof-”
Diarmuid clasped a hand over her mouth!
He was being rough and merciless, but she did not hate that at all.
She knew what made him so crazy.
It was her demand for a divorce her insistence on leaving him!
That was the very moment she found love.
Every grievance and grudge between them suddenly seemed to vanish, as she reveled in the moment!
She suddenly felt an odd sense of familiarity as if they had known each other even before their sham marriage, but was soon brought back to reality before she could ponder the idea.
Diarmuid leaped off the bed when it was over, got dressed, and left the room.
Abigail was left laying in bed, unable to get up as she was aching all over. She stayed silent as she listened to her storm off, saying nothing as she stared at the ceiling
She felt feeble and lost, and behind her eyes was a turbulence of emotions.
Her lips suddenly curled up in a self deprecating smile.
She had always despised women who were loose with their morals, but after a year, she was one of them now, spreading her legs to two different men.
Her nostrils were moist and she was on the verge of tears-it all began with one mistake, and everything was a downward spiral from there.
She would never have been pregnant or went into labor if she had defended herself that night, and she would never have had a child.
And she could have properly considered Diarmuid’s feelings for her without any pressure.
But now?
She breathed a long sigh and closed her eyes, a crystalline tear trickling out of the corner of her eye and disappearing within her hair.
…
Meanwhile, Diarmuid had left the mansion.
When Stan arrived for work the next morning, he found Diarmuid standing before the curtain wall, his shirt loose and wrinkled.
It was a far cry from his usual primness.
Walking up to the man, he asked, “What brought you here so early, sir?”
Diarmuid’s response was a complete non sequitur. “Tell me, why do you think Abigail Bernstein is so *bent on divorcing me?”
Stan Hill did a double take.
Diarmuid had always been high and mighty, never once deferring to anyone.
It was certainly the first time Stan had seen him like this.
Stan suggested, “Maybe she does have feelings for you, but she refuses to acknowledge it because you hurt her before?”
Diarmuid certainly agreed that it was one of the reasons-especially when it had caused her miscarriages.
Diarmuid knew that he had no one to blame but himself.
Even so, Abigail’s obstinance on getting a divorce left him feeling unbearable, no matter how he tried to endure and tolerate her actions-she would even go as far as to have her own father beg Henry!
It was clear that she would not change her mind once she made her choice, but such was her nature.
Now, he was even less eager to tell the truth of what had happened that night-would she not hate him more if she found out?
“Why don’t you test her, and see if she cares?” Stan suggested.
Turning to him, Diarmuid asked, “How?”
“Well, just hang out with other women,” Stan said. “She would not care if all she feels toward you is spite, but she would be jealous if she has feelings for you.”
Diarmuid scowled. “Why do I even bother asking?”
Stan was speechless-what was wrong with his idea? It was basically perfect!
Naturally, confident as he was, Stan said, “Well, do you have better ideas? That’s the only option to test her now.”
Diarmuid mused to himself for a while, and eventually said, “Fine, you’re in charge. Just get a woman that we can get rid of easily.”
“Understood,” Stan replied.
Suddenly, Diarmuid asked, “By the way, have you found Whitney Cox yet?”
“We’re on it, sir.”
“Find her-dead or alive.” There was a sinister tone in Diarmuid’s voice just then.
“Of course, sir,” Stan replied. “It was my negligence that afforded Chad Ross an opening.”
Abigail did not leave the mansion for the day, and was rehabilitating her foot per her doctor’s instructions. She could walk now, and was fine as long as she did not stress her foot.
However, she simply could not focus today, and had no idea why that was happening.
Her mind seemed muddled, and she caught herself checking the time on occasion…
As if she was waiting for something-or perhaps someone?
Mrs. Watson could see that something was weighing on her mind, and hence asked, “Mrs. Althoff, you’ve been staring at the clock for a while now. Are you that eager for Mr. Althoff to come home?”
Abigail snorted. “I’m not.”
“Now, now, I’ve been watching.” Mrs. Watson smiled. “You’re married, and this is just how it should be.”
Abigail lowered her gaze. “Really?”
“Of course-the way you’re waiting for Mr. Althoff coming home is exactly that.” Mrs. Watson beamed.
“Am I being that obvious?” Abigail asked her.
“What do you think?” Mrs. Watson asked in return. “When you’re married, you should be honest. I don’t know why you were so distant from Mr. Althoff before, but you should come clean if there’s something you’ve been hiding. It’s everyone’s win if he can accept it, and even if he can’t, at least you two understand each other.”
Abigail pursed her lips. “I’m afraid that he’ll hurt…
Her son.
And she had witnessed how furious Diarmuid can get.
“But hiding is not the way either, y’know?” Mrs. Watson told her.
Abigail agreed, and seeing that she was moved, Mrs. Watson pressed, “Just go to him, Mrs. Althoff. You’re done with rehab for the day anyway.”
Beguiled by Mrs. Watson, Abigail actually got Jimmy the chauffeur to drive her to the Light Group offices.
Still, she realized that she was being impulsive when she arrived at the entrance.
She turned and was about to leave when she saw Diarmuid stepping out.
It was too late for her to hide, so she braced herself to greet him… only to see the young, pretty girl following him.
And the instant Diarmuid saw Abigail, he put an arm around the girl’s waist!
Abigail’s expression darkened as she stared at Diarmuid holding that girl.
It hurt-as if someone had shoved her heart on a meat hook
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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