After My Husband Sent Me to Learn the Rules, He Regretted – Chapter 6
Seeing my manic expression, Nathan panicked, reaching for my face.
I dodged, wiping my face.
Unnoticed, I’d been crying.
Nathan looked like a different man, his panicked face that of a guilty child.
As he stammered to speak, Clara’s voice came from the corridor:
“Nathan, I finally found you.”
She ran over, possessively grabbing his arm.
Nathan shoved her away.
Shocked, tears in her eyes, she said:
“Did this woman lie about me again? Don’t believe her.”
Nathan glared at Clara:
“What kind of place is Mark’s sanatorium?”
Clara’s eyes shot toward me, filled with threat.
I knew what she meant.
When I was locked up, she would visit and have Mark drag me out, gleefully recording the old men as they abused me.
Afterward, she would warn me, grinning, that if I said a word, videos of the Grant family’s daughter being treated like a dog would spread.
I’d been terrified, fearing Nathan would think me dirty and leave forever.
Now, I wasn’t scared. I no longer wanted Nathan.
I stepped forward, squatting beside Clara, and patted her face as she’d done to me:
“No one’s stealing your Nathan. Take your man and go.”
“But first, return my bracelet.”
I grabbed her arm, trying to pull off the jade bracelet.
Clara struggled. She didn’t actually care for the bracelet; she just loved taking my things.
During the tussle, she hit the wall, then clutched her stomach and pleaded to Nathan,
“Nathan, our baby…”
Nathan jolted, looking at me:
“Anna, listen, she was drunk that night.”
I cut him off: “I don’t care if you were drunk or dead. I want my bracelet back.”
Clara clutched her wrist, looking at Nathan tearfully.
His gaze flickered between us, then, gritting his teeth, he lifted Clara:
“Anna, wait for me. I’ll explain.”
Clara, nestled in his arms, shot me a triumphant smile.
I watched them leave indifferently, returning to my room.
When Nathan reappeared, I had already had the abortion.
Ignoring the nurses, he stormed into the room.
Seeing my flat stomach, his eyes blazed with anger:
“Anna, how could you be so cruel?”
I turned away, but he forced my chin to face him:
“Clara’s baby isn’t mine. She was drunk, and I just took the father’s name.”
I nodded casually:
“Got it.”
My calm unnerved him. His voice pleading, he said,
“Anna, let’s reconcile. I was too proud, hated being called a freeloader.”
“I was wrong. Forgive me.”