Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
Unable to speak, Audrey felt nauseous and drained. The pain was so intense she thought she might pass out.
Cornell’s eyes narrowed instantly. Grabbing a towel, he dried her off, helped her get dressed, and swiftly carried her downstairs.
In the car, Cornell commanded, “Drive to the New North Hospital.”
Huddled in a ball, beads of sweat dotted Audrey’s forehead, her face contorted with agony.
With his palm supporting her back and her face pressed against his chest, Cornell leaned down and questioned, “What’s going on?”
Audrey could only shut her eyes tightly, appearing visibly distressed.
Glancing at her, Cornell ordered, “Hurry up.”
The car came to a halt in the underground parking lot. Cornell carried Audrey straight to the gynecology consultation room where a doctor awaited.
During the waiting, Luis came over.
Noticing Cornell’s expression, he questioned, “Did you take your meds?”
Cornell gave a nod, followed by a shake of his head.
“Where are they?”
“You treat it like it’s food, huh? You’re popping them that much?”
Cornell just scowled, offering no reply.
Clearly displeased, Luis produced a tiny vial containing a scant amount of medicine.
“You get this much for a week. Don’t ask for more until then.”
Accepting it, Cornell swallowed a few pills with a swig of mineral water handed to him by Matteo.
Luis shook his head, noting Cornell’s fixed gaze on the ward.
“When you have an episode, stay away from Audrey. Do you think she can handle you? You should seriously consider ongoing treatment. You don’t want to lose control and regret it later, right?”
Luis chose his words carefully, suggesting that bipolar disorder could have varying impacts, and accidents could occur despite his self-control.
Usually, when something happened to the things or persons he deeply valued, he would completely lose control.
Cornell pressed his lips together, responding simply, “Understood.”
Luis went on, “I saw online you were celebrating Cecilia’s birthday.
What’s that about?”
Cornell lifted his gaze and retorted flatly, “Nonsense.”
“You’re not concerned that Audrey will be hurt?”
Hurt? Cornell’s demeanor was icy. That woman wouldn’t be hurt.
She was the one who shattered his heart, and that was the real tragedy.
Soon, the diagnosis arrived.
Audrey had a potential risk of miscarriage. Hospitalization was necessary to protect the unborn baby.
Stunned, Luis blurted out, “Audrey’s pregnant? Why didn’t you inform us?”
Cornell turned around and entered Audrey’s ward, his face devoid of cheer.
Audrey was hooked to an IV that had alleviated her pain. She was more tranquil now and had drifted off to sleep.
Without a word, Cornell took a spot on the adjacent cot to catch some rest.
The night passed by silently.
At daybreak, Audrey’s eyes fluttered open to find Cornell slumbering beside her.
He lay there, dressed in a suit, his trousers highlighting his long, well-formed legs.
Recalling the events of the previous night, a wave of paleness washed over Audrey’s face.
She attempted to rise, gripping the bed rail for support, but misjudged her own stamina. Her legs wobbled, nearly giving out.
At this time, strong hands slid under her arms and hoisted her upright.
Once steady, Audrey took a step back, gripping the footboard of the bed. The rejection of her actions was palpable.
Cornell’s gaze grew somber.
“Think you can make it to the bathroom alone?”
Avoiding eye contact, Audrey retorted, “No need to concern yourself.”
Her raspy voice made her words all the more cutting.
With arms crossed, Cornell watched her cautiously make her way to the bathroom, steadying herself with the bed rail.
Inside, she shut the door, ran the water, freshened up, and reemerged.
The moment she opened the door, she saw Cornell there. Startled, she recoiled, but he quickly pulled her toward him.
“Keep your hands off me!”
Audrey’s voice spiked, causing a sharp pain in her throat.
The strain in her voice made her despise him even more.
She lashed out, hitting him. Undeterred, he led her back to the bed, pinning her arms, and admonished, “Calm down.”
A bitter laugh escaped Audrey’s lips. Who had driven her to this point?
She sneered, “Spare me your feigned concern. It’s nauseating.”
His brow furrowed, Cornell muttered, “Don’t be so ungrateful.”
Grimacing due to her sore throat, Audrey shot back, “Yes, I’m ungrateful. If you can’t stand me, then leave.”
The room tensed.
The door swung open. It was Matteo, bearing breakfast.
The tension in the room nearly froze him in his tracks. Matteo quickly set down the tray, mumbling, “Please eat something.”
Matteo exited hastily.
Cornell, however, remained. He unpacked the breakfast, setting a small table before saying, “Have some.”
Audrey remained unmoved as if she hadn’t heard him. She turned her face away and didn’t look at him.
Spoon in hand, Cornell scooped up some porridge and fed it to her lips. He commanded, “Eat it.”
But Audrey kept her mouth shut, her eyes even closing.
Cornell scoffed.
“Is there another way you’d like to be fed?”
Audrey was bewildered.
Why did it matter to Cornell whether she ate or not? It wasn’t that she refused to eat. His presence was what made her lose the mood to eat.
“You…”
Before she could even utter the word “leave,” her words were stifled by his Lips.
Cornell kissed her softly as if taking into account the discomfort in her mouth, He was gentle this time.
Nevertheless, this action brought back memories of their earlier activities in the bathroom, filling Audrey with revulsion. Reacting on impulse, she flung the hot porridge at him.
Cornell grimaced as the scalding porridge hit him and quickly detached his lips from hers.
Just when Audrey assumed he’d explode with anger, he restrained himself, opened another carton of porridge, and said icily, “Eat.
Otherwise, I’ll feed you the way I just did.”
Audrey was at a loss.