I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 49

The x-rays confirmed her worst fears—her ankle was fractured. Surgery was scheduled for the following morning.

Scott covered the deposit for the hospital room, but he was entirely unapologetic about it.

"You staged this, didn't you? You just can't stand seeing me happy. We've been divorced for two years. Let it go."

"You think I want to be strapped to a hospital bed? You assaulted me, and you're acting like the victim?"

Piecing together their history from the screaming match, Sophie excused herself to grab some overnight supplies and fruit from the lobby. By the time she returned, they were still going at it.

"You brought a woman into our home. You were both dripping wet from the shower, and you still have the nerve to claim you weren't sleeping with her!"

"I told you a hundred times. We got caught in a torrential downpour and just came back to dry off."

"Like hell. She was wearing your white T-shirt and absolutely nothing underneath, and you walked out wearing nothing but a towel. Do you think I'm blind? You expect me to believe you didn't touch her?"

"I handed her your old sweatpants! How the hell was I supposed to know she'd put on my shirt? You two were physically brawling in the hallway! I sprinted out of the shower to stop it, I didn't have time to put on a tuxedo!"

"Don't treat me like an idiot. If you weren't already screwing, you were about to."

"I never touched her!"

Scott suddenly roared, his patience entirely snapped.

"I am not stupid! You're a shameless bastard, but I actually have some dignity!" Gwen shrieked back.

"I explained exactly what happened, and you refused to listen. You kicked the door open and screamed so loud the entire building heard you! Did you care about my dignity then? You destroyed our marriage, not me."

They were tearing each other to pieces. Sophie lingered in the hall, too mortified to interrupt, until a patient from the next room hobbled over, giving her a very strange look.

Mortified, Sophie hammered on the door. "Gwen! I bought the fruit!"

The screaming abruptly ceased.

"I paid the bill. Don't contact me again. My wife won't tolerate it."

Scott's voice was a low, defensive mumble.

"I hope you go completely sterile and she gives birth to a whole football team of bastards," she hissed venomously.

"Your vicious mouth is your own worst enemy, Gwen. If you weren't a woman, I'd knock your teeth down your throat."

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