Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 905

This time, Blake’s period hit her harder than she’d expected. When she stepped out of the car, the world tilted, and she had to steady herself to keep from losing her balance.

Herman had seen enough. He moved in, catching her by the arm. "Come on. Let’s go to the hospital."

Blake brushed his hand off. "I’m just tired. I’m going home to rest."

"Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out?"

She shot him a look, her brow tightening. "You’re crossing a line, Mr. Howell."

It was clear she didn’t like him interfering in her personal life.

Herman clenched his jaw quietly, then gave up. "Fine. I’ll take you home."

Blake opened her mouth, ready to say no.

Herman couldn’t help thinking—did she really hate him that much? She wouldn’t even let him do something this simple.

"I don’t have a say in your business decisions," he said, cutting her off. "But if you pass out on the street, that’s going to look bad for both of us."

Blake pressed her lips together. This time, she didn’t argue.

Herman got his way and drove her home.

He was practically a regular there by now. For a second, he considered following her in—make her some tea, hang around until she fell asleep, then slip out.

But she must’ve been truly exhausted. The moment she stepped inside, she slammed the door shut. The sharp crack wasn’t just a door closing—it felt like a very clear "don’t bother" aimed straight at him.

Herman just stood there, saying nothing.

His jaw tightened, fists curling at his sides. He lingered for a beat, then turned and walked away.

...

Blake had looked rough the day before. Even though she’d gotten into Trensea in the afternoon and had a few hours to rest, Herman figured she’d take at least another day off before showing up at work again.

But after barely half an afternoon and one night, she walked into the office the very next day.

And she looked incredible.

She was dressed in a sharp blue suit, tailored to perfection. Her hair fell in soft, controlled curls, every strand exactly where it should be. A white polka-dot silk scarf sat neatly at her throat, paired with a string of pearls. Her makeup was flawless—elegant, polished, and powerful. The moment she stepped inside, her heels clicking against the floor, people started to gather around her. She didn’t slow down, heading straight for the conference room, owning the space without even trying.

The woman who could barely stay on her feet yesterday almost felt like something Herman had imagined.

The woman he secretly liked... was honestly a bit of a monster.

Her recovery was insane.

But she wasn’t a machine. She’d had iced coffee, alcohol, a business trip, and a long flight—right in the middle of her period. There was no way anyone just bounced back from that overnight.

Even Herman, perfectly healthy, needed a day or two to shake off something as minor as a cold.

He knew what it really was—Blake pushed herself too far. She kept herself operating at full tilt, no matter the cost, never stopping to ask if her body could actually keep up.

She was running on fumes, burning through whatever she had left.

All he could do was worry.

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