The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 137

Nora's eyes widened, the tears freezing in her eyes.

She knew Gideon had a deep scar on his left wrist.

Shortly after they were married, she had been helping him organize some files in the study and accidentally brushed against his wrist. As his cuff slid up, she saw the long, jagged, flesh-colored scar.

It was deep, slashing horizontally right over the vein. She could only imagine how horrific it must have looked when it first happened.

Her heart aching, she had asked him how he got the scar.

Gideon had merely pulled his hand back and casually brushed it off, saying it was a childhood accident from a piece of broken glass.

"Ma'am."

Franklin looked at Nora's pale face, offering earnest advice. "Mr. Hayes... he does have you in his heart. We've all heard how he’s been spending time with you at the villa lately. He might seem cold, but he’s warm inside. He knows you've been wronged, and he’s trying to make up for it."

Franklin's tone shifted, laced with profound resignation.

"It’s just that... Giselle is a responsibility he cannot let go of. Give him a little time... don't always try to compete with Giselle. The fact that he allowed you to stay in the family and gave you the title of Mrs. Hayes proves you hold a different place in his heart."

"As long as you don't touch anything involving Giselle, he will surely treat you well."

Listening to Franklin, Nora felt the blood in her veins slowly turn to ice.

She bit down fiercely on her lower lip, fighting back the urge to cry again. A heavy metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, yet it paled in comparison to the violent agony tearing through her chest.

He has you in his heart.

How deeply sarcastic, how utterly laughable that phrase sounded.

Why was his memory exclusively reserved for Giselle? Why were all his responsibilities and favoritism poured solely onto Giselle?

Responsibility.

Nora twitched the corners of her mouth, a bitter smile surfacing.

He had a responsibility to Giselle because he had raised her, because he had saved her with his own blood.

But did he have no responsibility toward her?

She was his wife.

She had drained the best ten years of her life on him, throwing away her pride and dignity. she endured the cold stares of her relatives, suffered his boundless favoritism, and even had Giselle splash her with scalding chicken soup.