Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 326

Chapter 326 You Should Know Who It Is

Late at night, outside Olsen Manor, Hugh stood by his car in a crisp suit, his eyes fixed on the closed gates.

The light in the second-floor master bedroom was still on. He knew Bethan wasn’t asleep.

He glanced down at the message he had sent her. Still no reply.

For a long time now, Bethan had stopped answering his messages and missed calls.

She hadn’t blocked his number-she just ignored him.

She could be with anyone else, but she wouldn’t let him near her anymore.

The persistent, gnawing feeling of helplessness felt like a dull knife, cutting him slowly-painful but not deadly, yet never fading.

And he could do nothing to stop it. 1/11

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It was driving him crazy.

The sound of a car door opening behind him snapped him from his thoughts.

Logan hurried over, getting out of the car.

Hugh glanced at Logan, then back at the second-floor window, still lit.

His eyes darkened, his frustration building. He had already guessed why Logan was here, but still asked in a low voice, “Why are you here?”

Logan’s voice was respectful but firm. “Mr. Cavill, Sir Cavill sent me to bring you back.”

Hugh hesitated, his gaze lingering on the gate.

Logan saw his indecision and added, “Ms. Olsen has already called Sir Cavill. She won’t come down to see you. Please, Mr. Cavill, come with me.”

Hugh gripped his phone tightly, staring at the lit window for what felt like an eternity before finally turning and getting into his car.

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Near midnight, Hugh stumbled into the house, the smell of alcohol heavy on him.

He staggered into the bedroom and froze. The neat, gray-and-white bedding on the large bed instantly sobered him up.

“Jemma!”

The shout echoed through the quiet house. Jemma, startled, quickly emerged from the maid’s room, fully dressed.

Hugh pointed at the bedding, his voice sharp with anger. “Who told you to change this?”

Jemma hesitated, clearly taken aback by his rage.

“Mr. Cavill, you’ve been using the bedding Mrs. Cavill left behind for so long. Yesterday, when Mrs. Fiona Cavill came by and saw it, she had me take it down to wash.”

Hugh shook his dizzy head violently, trying to clear the fog. He pointed at the bed again. “Change it back. Now!”

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Without another word, Hugh headed to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Jemma hurried to change the bedding back to the washed set.

After a long, silent shower, Hugh lay in the master bedroom, wrapped in a dark bathrobe, staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open.

Unconsciously, he reached out to touch the empty space beside him, his heart tightening as if gripped by an invisible hand.

No matter how he tossed and turned, no matter how he searched, the bed no longer carried the faint, comforting scent of Bethan.

Hugh lay on his side, hugging the blanket tightly.

His mind flashed back to when he and Bethan had just gotten married.

Bethan had once said that the wedding bedding wasn’t conducive to his sleep, and that the usual gray-and-white tones he preferred were just “deathly dull.”

While he was away, Bethan had replaced all the bedding

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in the house.

That night, he had demanded she change it back.

But Bethan had insisted the new, pastoral style was refreshing and natural, that it brought a sense of tranquil freshness. The nature-inspired design, she argued, would help ease his insomnia.

He’d received a phone call at that moment and replied coldly, “If bedding could cure insomnia, doctors wouldn’t be needed.”

He could still vaguely remember the look on Bethan’s face then-hurt and wronged.

But by the time he finished his call and came out of the study, she had already changed the bedding back.

Despite his cold demeanor, she had snuggled into his arms, wrapping her hands around his waist, and asked if he’d eaten, if he wanted her to cook noodles for him.

Back then, Bethan had been so good to him.

But now, she wouldn’t even look at him.

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She had promised to hold his hand forever, never leave

him.

But now, she wouldn’t even give him the chance to make things right.

Hugh took out the crystal glass pendant-a keepsake from Bethan.

The little baby she had hand-drawn and AI-generated seemed to have red eyes, just like him.

The baby, too, was missing her.

Alone in the deep night, Hugh’s emotions exploded violently.

It felt like his heart was being torn from his chest, the pain so intense it made life feel worse than death itself.

Unable to bear the torturous pain any longer, Hugh stumbled out of bed and made his way to the living room.

At the wine cabinet, he leaned against it for support, his trembling hand gripping the bottle.

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The neck of the bottle clinked against the rim of the glass in chaotic, sharp sounds.

Hugh’s hands shook uncontrollably, and wine spilled across the counter, dripping onto the floor…

******

The next morning, Jemma found Hugh unconscious on the floor, surrounded by a pool of red liquid. Her face went pale in shock.

She shook him several times, but when there was no response, panic set in. She quickly dialed Fiona’s number.

“Something’s happened, madam… Mr. Cavill isn’t breathing!” Jemma’s voice trembled with fear.

On the other end of the phone, Fiona gasped, holding her breath.

The next second, Hugh, roused by Jemma’s frantic voice, struggled to sit up from the floor, his headache pounding.

Jemma was startled but quickly reassured Fiona, “It’s

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okay, madam. Mr. Cavill is breathing again.”

Hugh gave Jemma a weary glance before heading straight for the bathroom.

Jemma had watched him grow up since he was little.

Seeing him in this state-disheveled and broken-tore at her heart. She hurried to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, hoping something might snap him out of it.

But Hugh didn’t touch a single bite. He simply left for the company, his mind clearly elsewhere.

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After the morning meeting, Hugh returned to his office, unable to focus.

His gaze drifted to his hands, his eyes flickering between light and dark.

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