Chapter 19: Chapter 19



In the morning, Adrian left for work without a word. Leah walked over to Joelle with a bowl of soup. “Madam, this is good for your health. Mr. Miller felt sorry for last night.” Joelle knew all too well that Adrian would never say such a thing. Leah’s words were merely a tactic to make her maintain her role as a breeding machine for the Miller family.

“Leah, I don’t want it. Take it away.” Leah tried to persuade her again. “Madam, this is good for you. Mr. Miller said—”

“I said I don’t want it. Take it away!” Joelle repeated. Left with no choice, Leah exited the room. A while later, she returned and asked, “Madam, are you not feeling well?” Joelle ate her breakfast in silence, choked with emotion, and chose not to speak.

For three years, Leah had seemed the only one in this house who listened to her and genuinely cared—or so Joelle had thought. But now, Joelle realized Leah’s true loyalty was to Adrian’s wife, not to her as an individual.

“No,” Joelle responded, her voice tired and hoarse. “I’m going upstairs to rest.” Leah paused but then smiled as usual. “Your voice sounds hoarse. Maybe I should make some pear soup to help soothe it.”

“Do whatever you like.” Joelle ascended the stairs, lay on her bed, and closed her eyes. She had to recover her strength as quickly as she could. In the afternoon, the gentle sunlight seeped through the curtain’s gap.

Joelle woke in the comfort of the air-conditioned room and saw Adrian sitting by her bed, dressed sharply in his suit. His deep-set eyes and pronounced features were as striking as ever. For a brief moment, Joelle thought she was in a dream. Adrian raised his hand, adorned with his wedding ring, and lightly touched her forehead. “No fever,” he commented.

Standing next to him, Leah said, “She ate very little for breakfast and lunch. She’s been sleeping all day. I was so worried I had to call you.”

“Hmm,” Adrian murmured, his gaze fixed on Joelle. “Get up and eat something.” Joelle had rested all day, but it brought no relief. The mere sight of Adrian plunged her deeper into despair. She turned away from him and faced the wall. “I’m not hungry. Please, leave.”

Adrian’s jaw clenched. “Leah, leave us.” Once they were alone, he loosened his tie and sighed. “Joelle, I’m too tired for this. If you’re going to keep this up, whatever. Don’t eat if that’s what you want.”

Joelle remained unmoved and curled up defensively under the covers. This was the first time she had ever given him the cold shoulder. Adrian’s patience was wearing thin. He pulled back the blanket but stopped when he noticed her eyes were red. Maybe he was too harsh yesterday.

“Don’t you want to know anything about Landen anymore?” he prodded, knowing it would provoke a reaction. Joelle flinched involuntarily. His manipulation was all too familiar.

Minutes later, Joelle was seated opposite Adrian at the dining table. Her face was devoid of expression. Leah had prepared a larger-than-usual portion of spaghetti, worried Joelle might be starving. Meanwhile, Adrian lit a cigarette, tossed the lighter aside, and gestured toward the spaghetti with the hand holding the cigarette. “Finish that, then we’ll talk.”

Joelle began to eat. She forked the spaghetti mechanically, as though she was following a strict command. Every bite felt like a punishment. She had no appetite. When she finished the last forkful, her stomach protested, and she looked up at Adrian with eyes brimming with tears. “Is that enough?”

Adrian, enveloped in a cloud of smoke, seemed to cast a shadow over the room. He casually flicked ash from his cigarette and looked back at her with piercing eyes. “Why the long face?”

Joelle dabbed her mouth with a napkin and straightened up. “I want to hear about Landen. That’s all. If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll head upstairs.” As she moved past him, Adrian’s long arm ensnared her, drawing her onto his lap. To maintain her balance, she was forced to sit on his legs.

Adrian seized her chin, compelling her to look at him. “Enough with your tantrums.” Joelle faced him with renewed determination. “You’re wrong. I don’t even have the right to throw a tantrum at you.”

“Oh, is that so? Then what do you call this?” Adrian glided his hands over her skin, leaving harsh red marks in their wake. Joelle resisted with all her might, but he held her firmly in place.

“Does Shawn have no money again?” he asked. Money. Such a vile and nasty word. Joelle shifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Adrian, I won’t bear your child. I want a divorce. I’m going to tell your grandma that we’re done and that this can no longer continue.”

After she said these words, a profound relief washed over her. This man did not love her, did he? Why should she keep pursuing something that would always remain out of reach? A child wouldn’t change their reality. Joelle had wasted eight years on Adrian. Why sacrifice any more of her life?

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