The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 270

Chapter 270

Gemma’s POV

The dust still clings to my hair, my clothes, my skin. Every breath tastes of grit, but my chest is pounding too hard from the shock of what just happened.

One second, I was running with Zina, dragging her along as the landslide crashed down from the hillside. The next moment, I hear the faint cry of a child… a sound too vulnerable and fragile to ignore.

I stop dead in my tracks. Zina yells my name, but I turn around, knowing I can’t leave the little girl behind. She is sitting in the rubble, her knee scraped, tears streaking her dusty cheeks.

“Hey, hey… don’t be afraid,” I whisper, crouching and gathering her into my arms. “Come with me, okay? I’ll get you out of

here…”

We take a few steps, but the ground creaks under our steps. A sharp crack rises unexpectedly, and my heart stutters to a stop when I see the wall collapsing right at us.

“Gemma, move!! It’s dangerous!” Zina screams.

But my legs won’t move. My body locks, and I freeze in terror.

Then, in a blur of movement, something solid takes a projectile

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path and slams into me, knocking me off my feet. We roll over the jagged ground, dirt and debris crashing around us, until the wall smashes down where I had just been.

The cloud of dust and smoke makes my throat itchy, and the weight pressing me is quite uncomfortable. I hear a hiss of pain beneath me, and when I glance down, my heart nearly stutters.

Cassian!

His brows are pulled tight with pain, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Worse, I have fallen directly onto his injured arm, putting all my weight on it.

I scramble off him, panic flashing through me. “Cassian, are you okay?”

My voice trembles. How on earth is he here, in Hilsurrey of all places?

He props himself up with his good hand, eyes dark and stormy.

“Are you out of your mind?” he growls, his voice low but scalding. “Do you not know how dangerous it is in an earthquake zone? There are aftershocks. Do you want to get crushed under rubble? Have you thought about your mom? About Grandpa? About anyone?”

His words sting, sharper than the dust cutting my throat. My eyes drop, my grip tightening around the child still trembling in

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my arms.

Seeing me go quiet, his fury falters. His voice softens, “Never mind. As long as you’re okay, it’s all worth it.”

He tries to rise, but when he shift his injured hund, I see the flicker of agony cross his face. The movement makes him hiss under his breath.

I bite my lip hard, guilt eating at the. “Let’s go to the hospital first.”

Zina rushes to me, brushing off dirt from her clothes. “Gemma,

1-”

She sees the way Cassian’s face pales and swallows her remaining sentence whole.

“I think you guys should go ahead,” she says quickly. “I’ll find Molly.”

*****

I have counted all the square white tiles in the hospital corridor at least thrice, sitting in the same position in the metallic chair by now.

Meanwhile, the doctor unwraps Cassian’s arm, his expression turning grave as he examines it.

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When he finally calls me to his office and hands me the report, my heart nearly stops.

“His hand injury is not a casual matter,” the doctor says, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“The previous injury hasn’t healed yet, and today’s accident has only made it worse. If he doesn’t take proper care of it, this hand might be useless.”

My breath falters. “What… what do you mean, useless? Will there be lasting effects to this?”

The doctor looks at me steadily. “If not taken seriously, yes. Definitely.”

I absentmindedly grip the paper tightly, making it crumple.

My voice trembles. “He… he is a pilot. If his hand doesn’t recover, he won’t be able to fly again. Please, doctor. There has to be something we can do.”

He blinks, clearly startled. “A pilot? I’m sorry, madam, but if recovery isn’t good… he won’t be allowed in the cockpit again.”

The words slam into me like a tonne of bricks crashing into my chest at once. For Cassian, flying is his passion, the sky is his escape, his everything. If he loses that…

My throat burns. I can’t tell him this, I can’t be the one to break

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this news.

****

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When I return to his room, I have forced my expression into some kind of composure, although my insides are still trembling.

Cassian glances up, searching my face.

“Where did you go?”

I ignore the question, setting the papers down. “I spoke to Grandpa. We’ll arrange for you to be transferred to another hospital. There’s no need to stay in Hilsurrey.”

His lips twitch playfully. “Gemma… are you worried about me?”

My heart lurches. I force my face into staying calm, though my fingers curl. “It’s because of me that you’re injured again. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

The faintest smile touches his mouth. But then, he grabs his bandaged arm suddenly, wincing. “The doctor said my hand is very serious. Gemma… I might need an amputation.”

My feet are moving towards him before my brain can process a reason not to. Stupid, maybe, after everything, but a deep–seated, three–year–old habit of worrying about him is a hard thing to break.

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I walk over, my voice laced with a concern I wish I could stifle.

“Why, what’s going on? The doctor just told me as long as you take care, it’ll be fine. Why would amputation be necessary? I’m going to find him right now!”

I blurt out the words, frantic and honest.

But then I notice the slight tremor in his shoulders, and his eyes, which had been screwed shut in supposed agony, crack open to watch my reaction.

He straightens up, the pained expression melting into a familiar, infuriating smirk.

“I… I’ll go get a doctor!”

He says, his voice now light and teasing, completely devoid of the pain he was just pretending to feel.

The switch is so sudden that my worry sours into something hot and sharp in my chest. He was joking!

He was toying with me, watching me run to him, watching me panic. I snatch my hand back, turning my face away.

“Do you think this is funny? You’re insufferable!”

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