The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 158

She walked over to a quiet corner of the lobby, a bitter taste in her mouth. "Hassan, by protecting her, you're becoming an accomplice to what she did. You're completely invalidating what I went through."

Her voice was raspy, drained of all strength. "You've been ruthless, and I no longer expect anything from you. Since we've reached this point, just sign the divorce papers. I'll wait right here."

"Yesterday it was just Pearce Jagger, and look at what almost happened to you. Do you have any idea how many enemies you've made over the years? Once you divorce me, who's going to protect you? Your beloved Thornton family, who threw you away and would gladly sell you to the highest bidder?" His tone was cold, almost indifferent.

A dull, crushing ache settled heavy in Natalie's chest.

The young girl who used to cry in this man's arms when she was hurt could never have imagined that, years later, her vulnerabilities would become the very blades he used against her.

He continued, "Staying Mrs. Carlson is your safest option. A divorce does nothing for you."

"Hassan." Her voice was soft, fragile, suddenly interrupting him. Her throat tightened. "We've known each other for twenty years. I spent sixteen years as your little sister, your best friend, before I ever became your wife. Even if there's no love left, isn't there at least family? Or friendship? I will not compromise anymore. Are you trying to force me into an early grave?"

She had known Hassan since she was a little girl who still needed her mother to hold her hand to cross the street.

Unlike other kids who were shy, she had marched right up to him during their first meeting, grabbed his hand, and dragged him off to play.

At four, with her mother constantly working, she would frequently run over to his house for dinner. Standing on her tiptoes, clutching a stuffed animal, she would whisper into his ear that her toy had magic powers.

He had played along with her childishness, solemnly making a wish to the stuffed animal that Natalie would eat all her vegetables.

At six, her mother worried about her reading skills and forced her to read literature every day. Natalie preferred puzzles and math, despising books. She ran to him to complain, and he patiently sat with her every afternoon, teaching her how to read properly.

At nine, she caught her father having an affair, spending nights consumed by the terror of abandonment.

He skipped school to take her out—letting her pet elephants, mold clay, build shelters for stray cats, and sitting quietly in a brightly lit bakery, watching her eat sweet pastries.

He had told her that the more she experienced the world, the more she'd realize how small she was, and that the troubles trapping her were actually insignificant.

At eleven, her mother passed away from a severe illness. Her entire universe collapsed.

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