Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 50

(ARIELLE'S POV)

The moment Jared walked out, the dam let loose. Tears streamed down my eyes in torrents, and my body shook in unison. It was all too much to rein in. Seeing him had felt like rubbing salt to a fresh injury. So excruciating.

“Hey, it's alright. Let it all out,” Ashley whispered, squeezing my hands. She had been quiet all through the exchange with Jared, and had wanted to interfere if not for my subtle signal that she remained calm.

As I let the floodgate open, my emotions were heightened. Anger, sadness, and regret. Why had I held on for so long? Why had I ignored Jared's aloofness, attributing it to his personality when it was actually a pointer?

I cried harder, more at my foolishness, and less at Jared's betrayal. But as I cried, something shifted in me. I realized that I couldn't keep doing this to myself. I couldn't keep loving someone who didn't love me back.

Jared would never choose me over Sofia. If after two decades he still hadn't gotten over her, what were the odds that even after a millennium, he would?

I sniffled, it was only unfortunate that I lost my child in the process. But this time, I wasn't going to lose another thing before I take a walk. I was going to make the one decision I've been too scared to make. I was going to make the same mistake my mother made, only that, this time, I don't consider it a mistake. I consider it a coping mechanism, and I was going to take that one bold step for my dead child, and for myself.

After what felt like eternity, I slowly got a grip of myself, wiping my tears with the tissue Ashley offered.

“I'm done,” I announced, my voice firm. And then quickly added, “”I'm done waiting, done hoping. It's time to move on,” when a confused look appeared on Ashley's face.

“Oh,” Ashley mouthed, her eyes filled with understanding. “Well, with all that has happened, it seems like the right thing to do.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I'm going to file for divorce.”

Ashley's expression turned sympathetic, like the full impact of my words just registered in her memory. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Yes. I deserve better. My child deserved better.”

“I want you to know that whatever decision you make, I'm with you all the way.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Let's get you to the bathroom, you look a mess,” Ashley said, at an attempt at a joke, and it drew a laugh from me.

She helped me off the bed, supporting me as we walked to the bathoom. My waist still hurt, making it impossible to walk on my own.

In the bathroom, as I washed my face, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I cringed, unable to recognize the face that stared back at me. Red–eyed, pale, sickly. But I smiled because despite the look, my eyes held a glint of defiance and determination. I was going to get my broken pieces together, and get my life on track.

After I was done, Ashley led me back to the bed, and just then, the doctor entered with his usual entourage.

“Hey, Ma'am. How are you feeling?”

“Alive, except that I feel like an old woman because my waist hurts.”

He nodded with an understanding smile. “I can imagine. We'll check your vitals now, give you a couple of analgesic injections, and then I will tell you about the news I have about the remedy for your waist.”

My eyes lit up in expectation and I nodded, "alright." A few minutes the doctor was done, and turned to face me.

“So back to the pain in your waist. Besides the miscarriage you had, our tests prove that you suffered a severe sprain to your waist. That's the reason you're experiencing pain in your waist.”

I winced, dread creeping into my chest. “Will I ever recover?”

“Of course, you'll,” he assured. “We will help you recover. You'll need to undergo physiotherapy sessions to regain strength and mobility in your waist.”