Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
Audrey shook her head dismissively.
“We’re not getting back together.
Last night, I felt ill, and he stayed to care for me.”
It seemed she was convincing herself more than informing Henley.
Since the divorce, the thought of reuniting with Cornell hadn’t crossed Audrey’s mind. Cornell was a closed chapter in her eyes.
Yet, his recent words unnerved her.
His casual greeting to Henley indicated a resolve to win her over, exuding an unsettling calmness.
The more Audrey pondered, the more irate she grew. His love, she surmised, was not for her but for the physical comfort she provided.
Henley, on the other hand, experienced a surge of relief, a sensation he welcomed.
Shaking off his worries, he offered a suave, soothing smile.
“What were you trying to say earlier?”
Inhaling deeply, Audrey said apologetically, “Henley, we should cease our communication.”
Henley’s expression darkened. He pinched her wrist subconsciously and demanded, “Why?”
The sudden shift in Henley’s expression surprised Audrey. And he pinched her so hard that she felt pain.
“Henley, you’re hurting me…”
It was not until then that Henley came to his senses, and he quickly let go, his smile returning.
“My apologies, Audrey. I lost my composure.”
Audrey, recovering from her shock, dismissed the incident.
“It’s fine.”
“This is the second time you want to end things with me. Is Mr. Clement the reason?”
Audrey didn’t object. ‘m afraid it will affect your career, so we’d better keep a distance.”
Henley’s smile was tinged with sadness.
“My career’s already affected.
What now?”
Confused, Audrey pressed, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been dismissed. Accused of manipulating transactions, I’m barred from investment banking.”
Despite Henley’s nonchalant tone, the news stunned Audrey.
Years of effort gone, Henley’s career dashed because of her. It was a lot for anyone to bear.
No wonder Cornell’s greeting was so calm earlier. He couldn’t have been unaware of it, and perhaps, even played a role in it.
At a loss for words, Audrey’s concern was evident.
“Henley, I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, the smile never leaving his face.
“I may return to Swynborough. My family’s business is there, beyond others “reach.”
Henley’s feigned serenity masked emotions Audrey couldn’t decipher.
She felt a deep sorrow and repeated her apology.
Henley’s smile softened.
“Don’t blame yourself. Think of it as me going back to claim my inheritance. Does that ease your mind?”
Audrey mused that Henley should have claimed his inheritance earlier, not under duress.
“Audrey, would you like to go with me?” Henley inquired suddenly.
“Me?” Audrey said, taken aback.
While her original intention was to further study in Swynborough, it felt unusual to travel alongside Henley. They were nothing more than friends and classmates, after all.
“Why?” she inquired, her curiosity piqued.
Henley harbored his own rationale. His father’s company overseas was soon to be his responsibility, and he considered it opportune to take Audrey with him before leaving this city.
In the realm of looks, Henley differed markedly from Cornell. Each had their distinct appeals, defying direct comparison.
Status-wise, Cornell might not be a match for him abroad.
Winning over a woman should be within his grasp, he surmised.
Yet, a reluctant acknowledgment gnawed at him. He found himself increasingly invested in Audrey, a realization that soured his mood.
To him, women held little value, a sentiment rooted in the disdain for his mother.
His mother had given birth to him, only to neglect and mistreat him as if he were a mere plaything.
So, when she Lay dying from her excesses, he shed no tears, nor did he summon help.
Instead, he observed, impassive, as she struggled through her final moments.
Masking his inner turmoil, Henley offered a justification, “I sense you’re not content at home.”
Despite the allure of Henley’s proposition, Audrey remained steadfast in her refusal.
“I’m not ready to consider it,” she asserted.
She harbored ambitions to venture abroad, yet was determined to rely on no one but herself.
With a serene smile, Henley reassured, “There’s still half a year left. Should you wish to depart, you’ll have me join you on the journey abroad.”
Audrey, unconvinced of the feasibility of accompanying Henley abroad, rose to her feet.
“Henley, one moment,” she said before retrieving the gifts Gerda had given her and presenting them to him.
Henley declined, “No, Audrey. Take them. My mother gave them to you.
They’re yours.”
Audrey, insistent, refused to accept what she felt was not hers.
Once outside Audrey’s place, the warmth drained from Henley’s expression, replaced by an icy veneer.
The memory of Audrey’s unhesitating rejection inflicted an unfamiliar ache within him.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Could it be a genuine interest in her?
Interrupted by a call, Henley responded indifferently, his attention shifting back to Audrey’s window, “Let her know something and bite the bait,” he commanded coldly.
At Triclinium Hospital of Ardlens.
Cecilia found herself confined in a pitch-black room. Its airtight seal contained a stench reminiscent of decay, a grim reminder of death’s presence.
Mice skittered beneath her, occasionally venturing onto her feet, prompting her to suppress her disgust for fear of crushing their carcasses in a frantic effort to evade them.
This grim reality was her penance for yet another thwarted attempt to flee.
Upon her arrival at Triclinium, she protested her sanity vehemently, claiming she’d been committed against her will.
Initially, the staff inquired about her admittance, to which she exclaimed, “Cornell, the CEO of the Clement Group, is to blame!”
Their demeanor shifted to solemnity upon her declaration, convincing them of her delusion, and subjected her to a rigorous regime, two hours of daily “re-education” via film, designed to cement her supposed madness.
Over time, Cecilia learned to play along with their treatment.
Yet, she clung to the idea of escape, consumed with the desire to confront Audrey, the woman she blamed for her plight. In her mind, had Audrey not interfered, she would have already been Cornell’s wife.
One day, the heavy iron door groaned open, and a shadowy figure entered with an effortless grace.