My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage

Nate’s mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of her vulnerability—her whispered “no,” the softness of her trembling lips, her futile resistance.

A flush of heat prickled beneath his collar, and he tugged at it uncomfortably.

“Ah, so they’re just rumors,” he said, his tone measured.

“I’ll take my leave, then.” His gaze lingered on Elizabeth, carrying a weight of unspoken desire.

He had been too impulsive before, his eagerness driving her into Elijah’s arms.

But two years had only stoked his obsession, sharpening his hunger to possess her.

This time, he could wait.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his steps decisive, leaving the room heavy with his unspoken intentions.

The moment Nate disappeared through the door, the forced warmth in Elizabeth’s expression vanished, replaced by icy detachment.

Elijah misinterpreted the change, his concern immediately shifting to the red mark on her face.

His eyes darkened, the tenderness now replaced with a simmering anger.

Her skin, so delicate, bore the evidence of violence that should have never touched her.

When he first heard what had happened, he had ordered a thorough investigation, unearthing every misdeed those two thugs had ever committed.

He made sure they wouldn’t see freedom for at least a decade.

But even that couldn’t extinguish the fire of his rage.

The thought of those men laying their filthy hands on her filled him with an unrelenting fury.

His frustration spilled over as he shoved a set of clean clothes into her arms.

“You’re not a child, Elizabeth,” he scolded, his voice sharp.

“Yet you act like one, running off recklessly the moment you get upset.

If something had happened…” He stopped, his words trailing off into an unspoken abyss of fear and anger.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Tears brimmed, though she fought to keep them from falling.

When she had been at her most vulnerable, staring into the abyss of something unspeakable, Elijah hadn’t been there.

Yet now, when the danger had passed, he returned, not to comfort but to reprimand.

The weight of his words crushed something inside her.

She wanted to cry, to scream, but exhaustion—both of her body and her heart—sapped her strength.

Turning her face away, her voice was low and cold.

“If something had happened, I would have just died.”

The words hung in the air, a stark declaration of her profound loneliness.

The room’s atmosphere turned glacial.

Nearby police and nurses exchanged bewildered glances, unable to reconcile the couple’s previous facade of affection with their current hostility.

“Elizabeth?”

Beverly’s voice wavered with concern, but as her gaze settled on Elijah sitting intimately beside Elizabeth, her worry was overtaken by shock.

Whatever words she intended to say were swallowed by the awkward tension in the room.