Woke Up and Left the Cage of My Marriage 18
Chapter 18
“Mr. Fletcher, I think I’ve made myself clear.” Her voice remained even-no anger, no trace of emotion. “It’s over between us. Legally and emotionally, it’s finished. Please don’t come into my life again.”
She didn’t look at him after that. Instead, she walked right over to the rocking chair, sat down, picked up the book she’d left half-finished on the side table, and flipped it open-as if everything that just happened was nothing but a minor interruption.
Sunlight poured over her, casting her in a warm glow, but she sat there cold and indifferent, like an iceberg.
Ethan stayed kneeling in the sand, watching her peaceful profile, the softness of her dress still lingering on his fingers. His heart plunged into darkness, dropping deeper with every breath.
Suddenly, not far away, loud whistling and drunken laughter cut through the quiet.
A handful of local punks, drunk and swaggering, staggered over. Their eyes slid over Natalie with obvious bad intentions, and their mouths spilled crude jokes.
Ethan shot to his feet, shielding Natalie behind him. The icy sharpness returned to his gaze as he glared at the group. “Get lost.”
But the punks, fueled by numbers and booze, didn’t back down. Instead, they closed in, grinning. “Hey, is she your girl? We’re just taking a look. No harm in that, right?”
Tension snapped the air tight.
One of them reached out to shove Ethan aside, aiming to touch Natalie’s face.
Without even thinking, Ethan threw a punch.
He’d trained before-his moves were fast and ruthless. In seconds, two were on the ground.
But the punks were many, and drunk. They didn’t care about holding back. In the chaos, one grabbed a discarded wooden oar from the sand and smashed it across Ethan’s back.
Ethan grunted, staggering forward. But he refused to move, still keeping Natalie behind him.
Through it all, Natalie stayed calm-watching the whole messy fight unfold.
Even when Ethan took the blow, her face didn’t flicker.
Not until Ethan, trying to protect her, took a gash on his arm-blood started soaking through his sleeve. Only then did Natalie finally move.
She pulled out her phone, dialed the local emergency number, and spoke in clear, fluent
Chapter 18
English, giving their location and the details of the injuries.
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Then she put her phone away, looked at Ethan-his face pale from pain, but still fiercely watching the punks-and spoke in a quiet voice, every word carrying: “The ambulance will be
here soon.”
She didn’t glance at him again. She didn’t even spare the punks-who now hesitated, unnerved by her composure and Ethan’s skill. She turned, walked back to the wooden house,
and closed the door behind her with a soft click.
In that instant, she shut out all the chaos, blood, and the man who’d taken the pain for her.
Ethan stared at her retreating back, at the door that swung shut without a hint of doubt. In that moment, the pain in his back and the wound on his arm were nothing compared to the shattering agony inside his heart.
The ambulance came quickly. It carried away both Ethan, battered and bruised, and the punk who’d been knocked out with the oar.
At the hospital, a doctor patched up Ethan’s bruised back and stitched the cut on his arm. It
wasn’t serious, but he needed to rest.
The second the nurse left, Ethan forced himself up in bed.
He looked at the gauze wrapped around his arm. He looked at the unfamiliar room, heavy with the sharp smell of antiseptic. He thought about Natalie’s last cold glance, the way she closed
the door in his face.
All the reason and self-control he’d been holding together snapped in an instant.
He swung his arm violently, sending the glass and medicine bottles on the bedside table crashing to the floor with a piercing, shattering sound.
He was like a caged beast, let out a strangled, painful growl, pounding his fists against the metal bedrail until his knuckles split and bled.
“Why… why…”
He howled again and again, the words breaking in his throat. Tears spilled down his face at last -he couldn’t hold them back. Dust, blood, and pain streaked his cheeks.
He’d gotten hurt saving her. And she wouldn’t even spare him a single look.
She’d calmly called an ambulance for him, just like a stranger reporting an accident.
This utter, merciless indifference-shutting him out of her life for good-hurt more than any revenge ever could.
He’d lost.
Chapter 18
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Utterly defeated.
Back at the seaside cottage, Natalie sat by the window, watching the beach and sea turn peaceful again.
The sunset spilled gold and red across the water.
She picked up the cup of water she’d left hours ago and took a slow sip.
Her eyes stayed calm-so calm that only at the deepest edge could you maybe spot a hint of something complicated, almost invisible, flicker through and then vanish.
She picked up her book and started reading once more, as if everything that happened at her door was nothing but a drama.
Ethan returned from the tropical island battered and defeated, wounds barely healed, dignity in pieces.
Even the sky above the southern city felt heavier, as if mourning with him.
He shut himself away in the lakeside estate, working nonstop, desperate to numb himself –
but it was no use.
Natalie ‘s calm, distant face, the way she looked at him like a stranger, haunted him more than any nightmare.
He couldn’t accept losing her-couldn’t accept the idea that she was out there somewhere, living bright and free while he was trapped in darkness.
Jealousy and a twisted kind of possessiveness twisted tighter inside him with every passing
day.
If gentle pleading couldn’t bring her back, he’d use the only method he knew-
Business.
He’d force her to come back, no matter what.
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