Divorce and Freedom No More Homemaker for Him novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23 In the Middle of the Night

“Troy, Ayla really isn’t good enough for you!”

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Ayla had already washed up and gone to bed. She lay down with her eyes closed, but she couldn’t fall asleep.

The door between the study and bedroom didn’t block sound very well.

Bria’s bitter words came through loud and clear.

Ayla heard every word.

She didn’t let it get to her–until Troy finally spoke.

“I know.”

Bria pressed on. “If you think she’s not good enough, then I hope I’ll have a new sister–in–law

soon.”

“Mmm.” Troy’s voice was cold. “Drive safe on your way home.”

“Okay.”

Bria left right after that.

Ayla pulled the blanket over her head, covering the tears that filled her eyes.

She didn’t know how long had passed when the mattress dipped beside her.

Half–asleep, she stirred and opened her eyes.

Troy was lying down, phone in hand, texting someone. Then a voice message came through.

He pressed it to his ear.

In the stillness of the night, Ayla could hear the faint sound through the speaker.

She recognized the voice right away. It was Skyla.

Ayla turned onto her side, pretending to shift in her sleep. The clock read two in the morning.

She quietly closed her eyes. She must have caught a chill while waiting for the car that evening. Her head felt heavy and dizzy; all she wanted was sleep.

But only minutes later, she felt a rush of cold air.

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Troy had yanked her blanket away.

“Get up.” His tone was sharp and commanding.

Dazed, Ayla sat up. Troy was already pulling on a jacket, moving fast like something urgent had happened.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I have to go.” He didn’t explain. “If I leave you here, Grandpa will ask questions in the morning. If you come with me, I’ll handle it with an easy explanation.”

Her head spun. She was sure she had a fever now and hated the thought of going out in the middle of the night. “I can explain to Martin.”

That might have worked, but Troy knew Draven was still there.

If he left Ayla behind, she would end up at breakfast with Draven and Grandpa.

Even if he didn’t care much about Ayla, he didn’t like to picture that scene.

“Even if you explain, Grandpa will still call me. I don’t want the trouble.” His brows knit tighter. His voice went cold. “Hurry. Don’t make me wait.”

Ayla’s head was spinning. She couldn’t think of a good excuse to give Martin, so she got up, dressed, and followed Troy. She climbed into his car, and they pulled out of the estate together. She climbed into his car, and they pulled out of the estate together.

They had gone barely a quarter mile when Troy’s phone rang.

He answered, listened for only a few seconds, and his brow tightened.

Ayla watched his face and saw a sliver of nervousness flash across it.

In three years of marriage, Troy had never shown such raw emotion on his face.

What was going on?

Before Ayla could figure it out, Troy hung up the phone. His voice turned sharp, almost commanding. “Get out of the car. Go back to the estate.”

Ayla couldn’t wrap her head around it. “What do you mean by ‘get out?”

“Now,” Troy snapped, already losing patience.

She glanced at his phone, the screen still glowing before it went dark. One word had popped up

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Chapter 23 In the Middle of the Night

-Skyla.

Everything clicked.

Only Skyla could make Troy this worried.

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If it were daytime, Ayla might have given in. But it was two in the morning.

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Outside the window was a winding mountain road with no streetlights and trees bent sideways in the raging wind.

Pitch–black. Cold. And she’d be alone.

Her stomach knotted. She looked at the ice in his eyes and asked quietly, “Can you at least drive me back? It’s just a few hundred feet…”

Why did he insist she get out now?

Troy’s tone was flat, merciless. “Waste of time.”

“Then at least take me into the city,” she pleaded. Her voice trembled. She wasn’t asking for much–she just couldn’t face the darkness by herself.

“Wrong direction.” His patience was gone.

“Out.”

She saw it then–the unyielding cruelty in his eyes and his overbearing attitude.

Earlier that night, Troy had shown up late at the base of the mountain.

But when it came to Skyla, not a second would be wasted.

He hadn’t wanted to risk leaving Ayla alone, worried Martin might call and scold him.

Now he didn’t even care.

Ayla had long stopped expecting warmth from him, but this cut her to the bone.

Even a normal friend wouldn’t abandon someone in the middle of the night.

At the start of their marriage, she had feared him. Three years together dulled that fear, but now–meeting the warning in his eyes–that old terror crept back.

Troy was cold, but he was always raised to act refined, to appear proper. Still, a chilling thought struck her. If Ayla resisted, he might explode for Skyla’s sake. Ayla didn’t know how far that anger might go.

She couldn’t mimic Bria, pout, and act cute. What if I don’t get out? What then?

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That would only bring humiliation, maybe worse.

Her jaw ached from holding back the sting of tears. She gripped the handle, pushed the door

and stepped into the freezing night.

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