Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 154

Chapter 154 Make A Bigger Mess

They stared at each other. Something flickered in Hugh’s

eyes.

He nodded. “You’re right.”

Then he added, “But next time you want to take those pills, you ask me first. I say yes, then you take them. That’s how this works.”

With things this tense between them, having a baby was the last thing they needed.

Bethan used every ounce of strength she had to break free from his arms.

She’d thought her battered heart couldn’t hurt anymore. But hearing Hugh’s cold challenge-God, it still cut deep.

Every step she’d taken toward him had been a mistake. Every single one.

She’d lost her pride somewhere along the way, forgotten who she used to be. Gone from naive to jaded, trusting to 1/6

guarded, carefree to constantly watching her back.

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She mourned the girl she’d been, hated who she’d become, and feared who she might turn into.

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Bethan gripped the back of her chair and tried to stand, but the world tilted sideways. Her knees buckled, and she pitched forward toward the restaurant entrance.

“Bethan!” Hugh caught her before she could hit the ground.

She felt completely out of it, like floating outside her body. “Hugh,” she whispered, “I really regret it…”

Even though her voice was barely audible, he heard every

word.

Right in the doorway, he pulled her tight against his chest, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Bethy,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t regret it.”

When Bethan woke again, evening light was filtering through the windows. Her body ached, but she forced herself to sit up and deal with the missed calls and messages on her phone.

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She finally called Miranda back. Miranda immediately picked up on something wrong, so Bethan lied and said her voice was hoarse from a cold.

Hugh walked in just as she sought an excuse to hang up.

If Miranda and Vincent found out she and Hugh had problems during Christmas, they’d worry themselves sick.

Hugh approached the bed, holding out a glass. “Jemma made you some juice.”

Bethan glanced at him, then lay back down and closed her eyes.

He set the glass down and gently pulled her upright. “Even if you want to argue with me, you need your strength first.”

His phone rang. He pressed the glass into her hands. “Jemma made this especially for you. At least drink something.”

Bethan sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her mug,

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saying nothing.

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Calling it an argument was generous-she’d been the only one talking while Hugh shut her down at every turn. She was trapped, powerless, with no choice but to take things as they came.

If he only responded to the soft approach, fine. She’d tell him what he wanted to hear.

Hugh hesitated, then stepped out to take the call. On the living room balcony, Megan’s voice crackled through the phone. “Hugh, about Christmas night-you left your wife on the street to be with Hudson. She didn’t give you hell for that, did she?”

Hugh’s grip tightened on the phone, his jaw clenching. “Megan, what’s wrong?”

Her voice turned urgent. “Look, I’ve got two sets of high-end skincare from my brand partners. I want to give them to your wife-call it an apology. Should you swing by and grab them, or can I drop them off sometime?”

“Don’t bother,” Hugh said flatly.

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On the other end of the line, Megan wasn’t giving up. “Hugh, these makeup sets are designer brands-they’re way too expensive. I’m just a small-time influencer; it feels like such a waste. And honestly? I’d be too scared to even use them. You and your wife have been so good to me and my son. Let me give something back for once.”

“My wife studied medicine,” Hugh said. “She’s really particular about skincare-only uses medical-grade products.”

Silence stretched between them. Hugh hung up.

Back in the bedroom, Bethan was lying down, her back turned to him. Hugh stood there for a long moment, just staring at the curve of her shoulder, the way her hair spilled across the pillow. He didn’t say a word. Just picked up the empty glass and walked out..

Later that night, Hugh stood alone on the balcony, cigarette between his fingers.

For as long as he could remember, his childhood had been a war zone. Ryan cheating, fathering kids with other women, then coming home to explosive fights with Fiona that shook the walls.

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Home wasn’t supposed to be the place he dreaded most, but that was precisely what it had become.

Some nights, he’d walk the streets for hours to avoid returning to all that screaming.

He’d sworn to himself back then that when he got married, he would be different. He would be faithful. He would never put my family through what Ryan and Fiona put us through.

But here he was, and somehow he’d managed to make an even bigger mess than his father ever had.

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