What She Overheard in Her Own Marriage novel Chapter 149

Shock and disbelief crashed over Finnian's face.

The air in the room seemed to freeze instantly.

"Are you delirious from the fever?" After a stunned, hollow silence, Finnian stared hard at her, desperately searching her face for signs that the sickness had stripped away her sanity.

"No." Kaia looked up, meeting his eyes with dead calm. "I am perfectly lucid. I know exactly what I'm saying."

Finnian's breathing hitched, growing slightly more erratic. He pressed his thin lips together in the dark, remaining silent, but his chest heaved with suppressed emotion.

Kaia stared into the empty darkness, her voice laced with mockery and profound sorrow. "We tried. We can be business partners, colleagues, comrades in the trenches, even friends who share a living space. But we are not a married couple. This marriage started as a business venture anyway. The only thing proving we were ever truly married is the surprise arrival of Brynlee."

Finnian's breath visibly hitched.

Kaia lowered her gaze, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. "Partners operate on mutual interests and contracts. Comrades share a goal and professional trust. Over these seven years, we've been incredible soldiers for each other, transforming Aethelstan Biopharma from a nameless startup into an industry titan."

She tilted her head, looking at him as if analyzing a failed corporate merger. "But a husband and wife? Finnian, what does a marriage actually need? Have you ever even thought about it?"

The color drained from Finnian's face, leaving him pale, then ashen. His lips parted, but he couldn't form a single word.

Kaia didn't expect him to grasp the concept anyway. Whenever it came to that test, he failed miserably.

"Marriage is the complete, vulnerable handover of emotions. It's absolute favoritism and being cherished above all else. It's making the other person the absolute priority in your life. It's sharing the good and the bad, raising children together, and growing old hand-in-hand. Maybe... maybe you have thought about it," Kaia said, the disappointment in her eyes crushing. But the sorrow quickly vanished into flat indifference. "But you just can't do it. Whatever. Let's skip the philosophy. These seven years of marriage..."

"Kaia, when you're sick, you are in no condition to make decisions. You're not thinking rationally," Finnian cut in after a heavy silence. He looked at her and added, "I'm going upstairs to sleep in Brynlee's room. You're sick, so you shouldn't be near her. Her immune system is weak, and we don't want her catching it."

With that, Finnian turned and walked silently up the stairs without another word.

"I'll start drawing up the divorce papers immediately..." Kaia's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for the man on the stairs to hear.

Finnian froze mid-step on the staircase, looking down at the woman curled up on the couch.

The soft glow of the light wrapped around her. Sick and pale, she looked fragile, yet her words remained as fiercely stubborn as ever.

Without a word, Finnian resumed his heavy, measured steps to the second floor.

Taking advantage of her open mouth, Finnian quickly sliced a small piece of soft fried egg with his silver fork and popped it in.

Watching the domestic scene from the stairs, Kaia felt an inexplicable, suffocating tightness in her chest.

She walked down, and Layla immediately placed her breakfast in front of her. "Mrs. Sanders, you caught a cold last night, didn't you? I heard you moving around. Are you feeling better?"

Kaia offered a warm smile. "I took some medicine. I'm doing much better now."

Brynlee immediately scrambled over to Kaia, looking up with wide, concerned eyes. "Mom, why are you sick? Did I steal all your blankets in the night and make you freeze?"

Kaia softened. "No, sweetie. Mom just wasn't careful and got a little chilled."

Finnian turned to look at her, his gaze much deeper and darker than usual.

She was wearing a cream-colored coat, her hair pinned up. Her already fair skin looked a shade paler, giving her an undeniable aura of post-illness fragility.