No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 46

**Chapter 46: The Accusation**

“Amelia, it’s incredibly late, and yet you still haven’t returned home. What on earth were you doing?” Ethan’s voice cut through the dimly lit hospital room, laden with concern and frustration.

At that moment, Amelia felt her last thread of patience snap like a brittle twig underfoot.

All the pent-up emotions she had been suppressing surged forth in a tidal wave, crashing against the walls she had built around her heart.

With a fierce glare, she locked her eyes onto Ethan and Hannah, her irises ablaze with a fiery rage that threatened to consume her.

“Ethan, is that truly how you perceive me?” Her voice trembled, raw and hoarse, as if every word had clawed its way out from the depths of her soul. “If this is the version of me you believe in, then what on earth are you even doing here?”

The final words erupted from her throat in a full-throated scream, reverberating off the sterile walls of the room.

Ethan was momentarily stunned, his expression frozen in surprise at her unexpected outburst.

He glanced at her frail figure lying on the hospital bed, and an unfamiliar sensation tightened in his chest—a mix of regret and guilt that he couldn’t quite place.

He remembered the moment he had heard Hannah’s careless words; anger had surged through him like a wildfire.

But it wasn’t merely anger that consumed him; it was a primal, instinctive possessiveness.

In his mind, Amelia was still a part of him, an extension of his very being.

And anything that belonged to him was not meant to be touched by anyone else.

Before he could fully process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him, Hannah, sensing the tension, shifted her demeanor in an instant.

She shrank back behind Ethan, as if Amelia’s fury was a tangible force that could harm her, then cautiously peeked out, her face reflecting guilt. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Harlow. It’s entirely my fault. I should never have said it that way.”

“I was just worried! You’re a woman out there drinking alone at night and ending up in a hospital bed. That’s just… dangerous,” she added, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hannah, if you can’t express yourself without being condescending, then maybe you should just stop talking altogether!” Amelia shot back, her voice laced with a sharp edge.

Their escalating voices finally drew the attention of the nurses stationed down the hall.

Before long, a female doctor in her forties approached, her younger nurse trailing behind her.

She paused at the doorway, her brows knitted tightly together. Her piercing gaze swept over Ethan and Hannah, her voice a mixture of authority and irritation. “Who are you two? Don’t you realize this is a hospital room? Why are you causing such a ruckus here?”

Taking a steady breath, Amelia turned her gaze towards the doctor, her expression resolute. “Thank you, Doctor. But I would prefer it if they didn’t visit me. Please, ask them to leave.”

Ethan’s eyes locked onto hers, a storm brewing behind his gaze, a mix of disbelief and hurt swirling within him.

Yet, under the doctor’s cold, unwavering stare, he found himself swallowing his anger. He shot Hannah an annoyed look, forcing out a stiff promise, “We won’t act like we did before.”

The doctor scrutinized him for a few seconds, then turned her attention to Amelia, finally nodding before she left with the nurse, her parting words echoing in the air, “Ring the bell if you feel unwell.”

Once the door closed behind them, Ethan turned to Hannah, his voice low and commanding. “Wait outside. I need to talk to her alone.”

Hannah’s face drained of color, her mouth opening as if to protest, but she quickly shut it again when she met Ethan’s dark, intense eyes. Without another word, she stepped aside, her heart racing as she complied.

Ethan entered the room, pulling the door almost shut behind him, the click of the latch echoing in the silence that followed.

He stood beside the bed, looking down at Amelia, who appeared so fragile, so alone.

Perhaps it was the doctor’s reprimand that had tempered his fury, for his voice softened slightly as he asked, “Did Beatrice and her friends pressure you into drinking?”

He reached out instinctively, as he had done countless times before, wanting to brush his fingers against her thin, pale cheek, to soothe her and bring her some semblance of comfort.