Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142 Stay Away from Him

Hugh was barely holding himself together. He’d never imagined Bethan would look him in the eye and say something like that with a smile on her face.

She used to be so different with him-eager to please, gentle, innocent. But now? Now she was either prickly and suspicious like a cornered animal, or completely detached, like nothing mattered anymore.

And when she wasn’t doing either, she played games behind his back while pretending everything was fine.

Bethan’s eyelids were practically glued shut from exhaustion. “Are you done yet?” she asked Hugh.

Hugh was still fuming, so he snapped back at her, “No!”

Bethan pursed her lips and slumped sideways into the couch. “Well then, keep going.”

It was the first time Hugh raised his voice at her. How weird.

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Hugh could tell Bethan was hurt, but he couldn’t let her

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act like this. He pointed at the pile of stuffed animals scattered around. “Where did all this crap come from?”

Bethan propped her elbow on the back of the couch, resting her head in her hand. She didn’t even try to hide

1. “Mr. Locke won them from those elaw machines.”

Hugh tilted his head back and took a deep breath. She really had the nerve to admit it like that. His hands

clenched into fists at his sides.

He kept his voice perfectly calm as he spoke to Bethan, “Look, I know you were Arthur’s doctor back in Canada, but that guy’s not normal. Stay away from him unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Bethan didn’t even open her eyes. “He seems pretty normal to me. At least he knows cheating on your wife is wrong, and that homewreckers are bad news.”

Hugh’s face darkened. “Megan wasn’t a homewrecker. She’s ancient history, okay? How many times do I have to tell you?”

Bethan didn’t bother arguing. She just said quietly,

Right. She wasn’t the other woman. I am.”

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< Chapter 142 Stay Away from Him

Hugh paced around the living room, agitation rolling off him in waves

God., these suffocating comversations again.

“Listen to me. Bethan,” he said, his voice tight “You’re

my wife. Everything you do reflects on the Cavill family- on me. Got it?”

Bethan nodded.

“Whether it’s that press conference or this Artisa

situation. I want this to be the last time. Are we dea?”

When Bethan didn’t respond, his tone got sharper. “Don’t think I won’t do something about this. You’re back now, so you better start acting like it.”

Just then, Bethan’s phone buzzed.

When she didn’t move to check it, Hugh grabbed it instead.

It was a text from Arthur: [Bethy, that pillow you got me is way too high. I want to video call you while I sleep.] 3/6

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Hugh’s expression went beyond just dark. He looked absolutely livid. “A doctor buying pillows for her patient? Don’t you think you’re crossing a line here, Bethan?”

Bethan stayed curled up on the couch, refusing to meet his eyes. Hugh was so frustrated he sat down hard and grabbed her shoulders, but she just melted into his arms. When he looked down, he realized she’d fallen asleep.

Hugh stared at her sleeping face, his jaw clenched tight. Here she was, coming home at 3:30 AM with some stuffed animal from another guy.

And whenever he raised his voice even slightly, she’d go into full self-destructive mode, like she just didn’t care

anymore.

If things kept going like this, their relationship was headed straight for disaster.

Bethan slept in until ten the next morning. Remembering her promise to Arthur the night before, she rolled out of bed and got ready for the day.

But when she stepped into the living room, the stuffed

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animals she’d brought home yesterday vanished.

Just then, Hugh emerged from his study.

“Where are the plushies I brought back last night?” Bethan asked,

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“Those toys are breeding grounds for bacteria,” Hugh replied matter-of-factly. “I took care of them for you.”

Bethan’s temper flared instantly. “What gives you the right to throw away my personal stuff?”

“This is my house,” Hugh said, his tone completely unbothered. “I have every right to deal with anything in

it.”

The words hit Bethan like a slap, and she went quiet.

As much as she hated to admit it, Hugh was right.

In this house, even she was a convenient cover for his reputation-just another disposable object for him to use as he pleased. Her stuffed animals didn’t stand a chance.

Eding Bethan’s silence, Hugh stepped closer. He kept his

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voice as calm as possible. “Look, as your husband, I need to look out for you. I’m telling you again-Arthur’s completely unhinged. You need to stay away from him.”

The moment Hugh finished speaking, Bethan’s phone rang. She glanced at him, then corrected him firmly, “Mr. Locke might be unstable, but he’s still my patient. He’s how I make a living.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned away to answer the call.

Hugh’s expression darkened as he listened to Bethan arrange a meeting time and place with Arthur.

A few minutes later, Bethan grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Hugh’s voice stopped her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned back and gave him a quick, perfunctory kiss on the lips-the kind that felt more like checking off a box than showing affection.

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