Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153 The Choice Is Mine

Ever since, he’d been careful to use protection every single time.

Yesterday morning, though, he’d lost control and hadn’t bothered with anything.

And now she was furious with him, so disgusted that she didn’t want to risk carrying his child. That was why she’d taken the pill.

He stood there for what felt like forever before finally pushing into the bedroom.

Everything was spotless-Jemma had clearly been busy- and Bethan lay unnaturally still on the bed.

Hugh walked over and found her curled up under the covers, her back turned to him.

He loosened his tie and sank onto the edge of the bed. There they were-one lying down, one sitting up, back to back in the suffocating silence of their massive bedroom. The quiet was so thick that one could practically choke on 1/6

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Finally, Hugh couldn’t take it anymore. “Jemma made you some oatmeal,” he said quietly. “You should eat something.

”

Bethan’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks, but she still kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want to face him.

Hugh rose and dropped to one knee beside the bed. Gently, he turned her toward him.

The strap of her nightgown slipped down, and the sight that met him made his chest tighten. Dark bruises, some fresh and some fading, stained her skin.

He froze. The memory of last night hit him like a blow. He had lost control.

He had never imagined himself capable of crossing that line-least of all with her, the girl he’d grown up with, the woman he had married.

His eyes burned red as he looked away. He stayed kneeling there for a long moment, fighting back the storm inside him.

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Finally, he reached out, pulled her strap back up, and helped her sit. He draped his jacket over her shoulders with a care that only deepened the ache in his chest.

“Bethan,” his voice was low, raw. “I know you’re awake. Open your eyes.”

From this moment on, he swore, he would never let her spiral out of control-or himself—ever again.

Bethan’s body went limp against Hugh, and she struggled to open her eyes.

The moment she caught sight of his face, she squeezed them shut again.

Without a word, Hugh scooped her up and carried her to the dining room, settling her into a chair where she leaned back and forced her eyes open again.

The elaborate breakfast spread before her might as well have been cardboard. She had zero appetite, zero desire to even part her lips.

Hugh tested the oatmeal’s temperature and lifted a

poonful to her mouth, but she refused to open up. The48

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he set the spoon down with deliberate calm and pushed the entire bowl toward her.

“Eat your breakfast and get some rest,” he said, his voice completely devoid of warmth. “Tomorrow night is Huvale Group’s annual gala, and you’re coming with me.”

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Bethan’s mouth. That was why he was so concerned about her eating-he needed his perfect wife for tomorrow’s show.

She glanced at him sideways but still refused to speak.

Hugh pulled out his phone with maddening patience. “Your hunger strike doesn’t faze me, Bethan. But if you won’t eat, I’m calling your parents to come convince you.”

That finally broke through her defenses. Her eyes welled up, her lips trembled, and the words came out shaky and defeated. “Don’t drag them into this. I’ll eat.”

Bethan tried to lift the bowl of oatmeal, but her hands were shaking too badly to manage it.

Hugh opened his mouth, but no words came out, then he felfthat familiar tightness crush his chest-sharp and 6:48

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suffocating. He’d been rough with her yesterday.

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Without thinking, he reached for her trembling hands. When he spoke again, his voice came out softer than he’d intended. “Let me help you.”

He fed her carefully, one spoonful at a time, while she ate hungrily.

Tears rolled down her cheeks-fat, angry drops born of frustration and hurt. Her voice was too raw to curse him out, and she didn’t dare raise a hand to him.

Not after yesterday. Not after she’d slapped him and learned what happened when she fought back.

Neither of them spoke. The silence pressed down like a weight, making it hard to breathe.

Hugh ignored her tears and kept feeding her until the bowl was empty.

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