The Marriage She Turned into War novel Chapter 219

"The moment you brought other men into our home, that house stopped being ours, and I stopped caring about you."

I looked at Abigail again, my eyes devoid of any love or warmth.

"Abigail, the agreement we made was simple. I would play the role you wanted, and in return, you would find a doctor to help Lana. I've fulfilled my part. I expect you to honor yours."

Her face hardened instantly, the coldness in her expression unmistakable.

"Is that what you really think?" she spat, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed, unsteady from the alcohol still in her system. She shot me one last icy glare before staggering out of the room without another word.

I sat there, listening to the sound of the door slamming shut behind her. A strange emptiness settled over me, draining what little strength I had left. Before I realized it, silent tears began streaming down my face.

Why?

Why was I crying? Hadn't I already given up on Abigail completely?

Yet, as her harsh words echoed in my mind, memories of the love we once shared flashed before my eyes—moments that once made me feel like the happiest man in the world.

I gasped for air, my chest tight and aching, the pain clawing at me from the inside out.

Abigail's sudden shift in behavior, her expectations, her demands—they all seemed so absurd. How could she expect me to care for her as I once did after everything she had put me through?

The sounds of Abigail throwing things in the next room broke through my thoughts. Her tantrum struck me as ridiculous, even laughable. I didn't know what to say or how to respond, so I simply went back to my bed, trying to block out the noise.

Sometime after midnight, I was unable to sleep and decided to step out onto the balcony for some fresh air.

…

The next morning, Margaret knocked on my door to wake me up for breakfast.

As I sat in the empty dining room, I couldn't shake the sense of futility that had settled over me. My life felt like a cruel joke—dragging this broken, exhausted body through each day for what?

For the next few days, Abigail didn't return home.

I found myself unexpectedly relieved by her absence.

For the first time in a long while, I could breathe. Without her constant presence, I had a chance to gather myself, to let the wounds she'd inflicted start to heal, even if just a little.