The Day I Quit Him (Autumn and Mars) novel Chapter 96

**Title: Chasing Light, Finding Peace** – by Rohan Verma

The unfolding drama in the group chat was precisely what Lydia had foreseen.

As she observed her father rendered utterly speechless, a scoff escaped her lips, and she set her phone aside with a sense of satisfaction.

Yet, a flicker of disappointment ignited within her chest, a small ember that refused to be extinguished.

Deep down, she had always understood that her father was nothing but hot air.

He was the type of man who would suffer in silence, clutching tightly to his fragile ego, yet lacked any real substance to support it. At home, he wielded his authority like a weapon, bullying his own daughter, but in public, he was little more than a submissive lapdog.

If Lydia hadn’t been the bedrock of the Lopez Group all these years, the Lopez Family would have crumbled into dust long ago.

Did he genuinely believe he would have the luxury of jet-setting around the globe with her mother without her sacrifices?

The weight of the family’s reliance on her was a burden she bore alone, while she was the one who had to navigate the treacherous waters of social niceties, ingratiating herself to others.

If only she had severed ties with them sooner! If only she had abandoned the empty pursuit of familial bonds, she would never have found herself ensnared in this tangled mess.

But it was not too late to reclaim her life.

No irreversible wounds had been inflicted yet. As long as she could rid herself of this dead weight, she could claw her way out of this mire and finally pursue the life she had always yearned for.

The phone she had carelessly tossed aside buzzed insistently, drawing her attention. Autumn picked it up, her brow arching in surprise.

A deluge of messages from Mars Wright flooded her screen, each one arriving in rapid succession.

In stark contrast to his previous, demanding inquiries, the texts he sent now were surprisingly meek and vulnerable.

He expressed how much he missed her and longed to see her.

【We’re husband and wife, after all. We’ve been apart for so long, you can’t still be mad, right? Babe, please come home, okay? Or I can come to you. Let me take care of you.]

The words twisted in her stomach like a knife. With a wave of nausea crashing over her, she dropped her phone and dashed into the bathroom, her body rebelling against her.

The sound of her distress brought Owen rushing to her side. He found Autumn hunched over the sink, her face contorted in anguish. Without hesitation, he moved to support her, gently rubbing her back in soothing circles.

Autumn felt her abdomen tighten painfully as her stomach waged war, attempting to expel its contents. The overwhelming wave of nausea surged through her, and instinctively, she curled into Owen’s arms, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Is it that bad? Should I take you to the hospital?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

Owen was already pulling out his phone, ready to call for the driver.

“No, no, you don’t have to…” she stammered, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“But you’re so pale,” he insisted, worry lacing his voice.

“Don’t just tough it out if something’s wrong,” he added, his gaze locked onto her ashen face, a flash of pain flickering in his eyes.

“I’m fine…” she managed to whisper, though her voice trembled.

Owen observed her as the retching finally subsided, relief washing over him.

“Go sit down. I’ll have someone bring you a glass of warm water,” he instructed gently.

Autumn nodded, wishing to rinse her mouth out, her gratitude evident. “Thank you.”

He guided her over to the sofa, his touch reassuring, before he stepped away, leaving the room.

Moments later, he returned, a glass of water in one hand and a small plate in the other.

Curiosity piqued, she squinted at the plate, catching a sharp, sour scent wafting from it.

“What’s this?” she asked, her mouth watering despite her earlier discomfort.

“Sour plums,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

“I had someone source them locally for me,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact.

“They aren’t in season, so these are greenhouse-grown. They’re good for pregnant women.”

Autumn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You actually had these prepared?”

Owen merely grunted in affirmation, his demeanor suggesting he preferred not to elaborate further.

She didn’t press him, but his thoughtful gesture sent ripples of warmth through her.

But how should she respond to Owen?

Could she simply bask in the warmth of his generosity?

That wasn’t her nature.

But she was at a loss for how to reciprocate his kindness.

The chasm between their worlds felt insurmountable. Anything she could offer would likely be dismissed by him.

Why would she set herself up for such humiliation?

And what if his kindness was merely a gesture for the sake of the baby? Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if she misread his intentions?

“What are you thinking about?”

Owen’s voice broke through her reverie, pulling her back to the present. His gaze drifted to her phone, abandoned on the table.

His expression darkened as he caught sight of the word “Hubby,” and he couldn’t help but voice his thoughts.

The sound of his voice snapped Autumn out of her daze. She found herself staring into his eyes, mere inches apart. Perhaps it was his striking features, or maybe the question had been weighing on her mind for too long, but she boldly asked, “Why are you so good to me?”

Owen froze, clearly taken aback by her directness.

He averted his gaze, lost in contemplation.

Realizing her question might have been too forward, Autumn opened her mouth to clarify, but before she could speak, Owen leaned in closer, his voice tinged with confusion. “Is it really so strange for me to be good to my fiancée?”

“What?”

Autumn’s mind swirled, her focus consumed by the handsome face so close to hers, and she struggled to process his words at first.

A faint smile played on Owen’s lips as he noted her bewilderment.

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her skin ever so lightly.

A shiver raced down her spine, and before she could react, Owen continued, “I said, who else is a man supposed to be good to, if not his wife?”