Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 305

< Chapter 305 Being Ignored

dressed in dark loungewear, his face pale.

“I told you not to come.”

Bethan set down her kit. “If I waited for your call, you’d yell at me for slacking. We agreed you’d notify me the second you got back, but you’re a week late.”

James twisted the bracelet in his hand, his jaw tight. “Appreciate the concern, but hold off on treatment. Go

home.”

Bethan’s nose twitched. She caught a faint metallic scent, like blood.

She didn’t push, just nodded and turned to leave.

Her gut screamed something was very wrong.

At the door, James told Isaac, “See her home.”

Ten minutes later, by Bethan’s car, Isaac said, “Ms. Olsen, I’ll follow you.”

Bethan couldn’t help it. “What happened to him?”

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Isaac stared at his shoes.

Bethan’s hunch confirmed. “Tell me. Please.”

Isaac glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Ms. Olsen, you know Mr. Keating’s orders are final. I can’t say more. I just need to get you home safe.”

Bethan stared at him for a long moment, then held out her phone. “Exchange contacts. If he needs help, call me anytime. Blame it on me if he gets mad.”

After typing in their numbers, she drove off, her chest tight.

James was hurt-bad enough he didn’t want her to see.

What kind of injury made him hide even from her?

Terrible possibilities flooded Bethan’s mind.

But whatever it was, James had been good to her. If he needed help, she wouldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

XXXXXX

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On the way back, Gwen called asking Bethan to come to Regal Club.

When Bethan reached the first-floor staircase, she froze.

Hugh was coming down, surrounded by executives. His tall frame, sharp suit, and icy aura made him impossible

to miss.

Their eyes met for a split second.

Bethan stepped back to let him pass, her face neutral.

Hugh dismissed his team with a wave and descended the rest of the stairs alone.

He stopped in front of her, his voice low. “Why are you here so late?”

Bethan didn’t answer. She walked around him, heading

upstairs, her back straight.

Hugh watched her go, cold and distant, and a sharp pain squeezed his chest.

She wouldn’t even speak to him now.

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A few minutes later, Jacob rushed over. “Mr. Cavill, don’t worry. Ms. Olsen’s with Ms. Cavill and Mr. Martin.”

Knowing she was with Gwen and Mason, Hugh finally left, though his jaw stayed tight the whole drive home.

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Late that night, Hugh walked into an empty, dark house.

No one left a light on for him anymore.

He flipped on every switch, then headed to the balcony. Rain was coming, and he needed to bring in the succulents Bethan had planted.

When he closed the sliding door, he noticed a throw pillow on the floor.

After they married, Bethan would wait for him on that sofa every night, that pillow tucked in her arms, TV glowing softly.

The second he walked in, she’d toss it aside and run to him—asking if he’d eaten, if he was drunk, if he was tired.

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Now, she wouldn’t even look at him.

Hugh’s breath hitched.

He bent down, picked up the pillow, and set it back on the couch.

The alcohol he drank at the club made his head spin. He went to the bathroom for a cold shower to clear his mind.

He stood under the spray for ten minutes, but the chill didn’t calm him.

Wrapped in a white bathrobe, he stared at the sink.

Bethan’s toothbrush cup was still there, her face towel barely used, a black hair tie lying on the counter.

He picked up the hair tie, his fist tightening around it.

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