From Discarded Wife to Queen (Tyrone) novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136 Your Love Isn’t That Important to Me

It looked like if they didn’t fight it out tonight, she wasn’t sleeping.

Her voice stayed low, almost flat. “Tyrone, on New Year’s Eve, you left me on the curb to run to the woman you love and her son. I didn’t give you a hard time, did I?”

Tyrone said, “I told you I’d be back soon.”

Aella shot back, “Coming back or not–that was your business. In that moment, you’d already made your choice.”

The air went rigid.

They both fell silent.

After a long, wordless stare–tens of seconds–Tyrone asked again, “If it mattered that much to you, why pretend to be generous and push me to go with them?”

Aella laughed. “Tyrone, do you think I’m cheap to you?”

She said, “When I found out you’d gotten back with Zera and there was a child, how many times did I force you to explain? And how many times did you cut me up in return?”

Tyrone’s eyes went dark–storm–cloud dark.

He stepped in, clamped her wrist, and yanked. Aella lost her balance and fell to her knees on the bed.

His hand closed on the back of her neck; he leaned in, slow. “So the promises, the heat, the softness–that was all fake? You were humoring me?”

Aella met the danger in his eyes without a flinch. “What else? After you betrayed me and hurt me, you really think I could still love you like before?”

Tyrone locked on her gaze. His focus blurred, like his mind had gone somewhere else.

Something squeezed his chest–an invisible fist–tightening until he couldn’t breathe right.

He stood there, stunned.

Then, word by word, he asked, “Aella, last chance. Are you sure you don’t love me?”

They held each other’s eyes. Aella’s look didn’t waver.

“I, Aella Reid—this life, the next, and the one after–will never love you, Tyrone Winter.”

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12:19 Mon, Oct 13

Chapter 136 Your Love Isn’t That Important to Me

166

Finished

Tyrone let go without a flicker.

He straightened, took a step back. His eyes cooled as he looked at her.

“Your love isn’t that important to me.”

They stared each other down. Aella almost smiled. “No reminder needed. I’ve always known.”

He loved Zera.

Of course, her love meant nothing to him.

Tyrone turned, grabbed the marital agreement from the nightstand along with a stack of documents, and tossed them in front of Aella.

His roughness, his force, startled her. She fought him, arms crossed over her chest to guard what little cover she had left. “Tyrone, don’t make me hate you!”

A flicker–barely there–passed through his eyes.

“Your hate isn’t that important to me either.”

Hours later, Tyrone got up and went to the bathroom.

Clothes were scattered across the dim bedroom floor.

A woman’s black lace underwear lay tangled with a man’s white dress shirt, adding heat to a room not yet cooled.

Aella lay on her side, numb, and the blanket slipped to her chest.

The skin left bare was a map of bruises.

Tyrone came out of the bathroom and stood at a distance, staring at her motionless on the bed.

His brow knotted hard. Something in his chest twisted into a tight, mean knot.

He turned—and his steps faltered.

Ten minutes later, he came back fully dressed.

He stopped at the bedside. Up close, the bruises were worse; her pale, blank face kept shedding tears. They seemed to roll straight into his chest, burning a path that left him restless and raw.

He turned and left–fast.

Moments after Tyrone was gone, the housekeeper, Emma, rushed in. One look told her what had happened. She headed straight for the bathroom and filled the tub to the brim.