The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 142

Gideon sank into the plush mattress, turning onto his side, his eyes still tightly shut.

Nora stood by the bed, staring down at the dead-drunk man, so exhausted she didn't want to move a single muscle.

She wanted to just turn on her heel and leave him to sleep it off. But seeing his tightly furrowed brow and his forehead slick with sweat, she finally let out a defeated sigh.

Nora leaned over the bed and reached out to unbutton his shirt.

Gideon offered no resistance, letting her handle him.

Nora moved smoothly down to his wrists to undo his cufflinks.

As the metal clasp came loose, the cuff of his shirt slid up, exposing his muscular forearm.

Nora's hands suddenly froze.

Under the bright bedroom lights, the scar wrapping around Gideon's wrist was glaringly exposed to her view.

Although many years had passed and the color had faded, the jagged, raised texture and horrific shape silently screamed just how violent and desperate the initial slash had been.

The old butler's words from the manor hallway echoed in Nora's ears once again.

"To keep her alive, Mr. Hayes used a shard of glass to slit his own wrist and fed her his blood."

Nora stared fixedly at the scar, a burning wave of sorrow welling up in her eyes.

Unable to stop herself, she slowly reached out, her fingertips inching toward the mark.

As her warm fingers brushed against the rough scar tissue, her hand trembled. She looked at the man lying on the bed, an unspeakable, suffocating tragedy crashing over her heart.

Her ten years of silent devotion, her three years of endless compromise—they all looked so utterly laughable, so utterly worthless in the face of this scar carved in blood.

Tears slipped silently from her eyes, falling directly onto Gideon's wrist.

Nora pulled her hand back.

An unprecedented exhaustion washed over her. She didn't want to look at that glaring scar for another second, nor did she want to face the man who had left her so thoroughly broken.

She stood up, preparing to turn and walk out of the master bedroom.

Just as she took her first step.

A large, blistering-hot hand suddenly shot out from behind, locking in a vice grip around her wrist.

Nora's entire body went rigidly still.

Hearing her voice, Gideon seemed to calm down slightly. But he still didn't loosen his grip; if anything, he held her tighter.

He pulled her hand tight against his chest, pressing it right over his heart as his breathing quickened.

"Don't go... don't go."

He murmured the phrase over and over, his voice heavy with deep longing and desperation.

Nora sat by the bed, looking at his closed eyes, feeling the searing heat from his palm and the steady, powerful thumping of his heart against her hand.

If only time could stop at this exact moment forever. No screaming, no cold shoulder, just him needing her. If he could only spare a tiny fraction of that longing for her, how wonderful that would be.

"Don't go..."

Gideon's lips twitched as he let out another blurred whisper.

Nora lowered her gaze. Just as she was about to murmur another comforting word.

The man lying on the bed parted his lips.

"Giselle..."