Chapter 89
I stared at my phone, the screen glowing in the darkness of Betty’s guest bedroom. Benjamin’s call had ended abruptly after that alarming crack with nothing but troubling questions.
What had happened? Was Henty truly hurt?
Despite everything, a familiar worry gnawed at my insides. I tried to push it away, reminding myself that Henry was no longer my concern. Let Isabells handle whatever crisis he’d created this time.
But my finger hovered over the call back button.
“Damn it, I muttered, finally pressing it.
The phone rang once, twice, three times–no answer.
Benjamin wasn’t picking up now. Was he deliberately ignoring me? Or was something truly wrong?
I closed my eyes, cursing my own weakness. After everything Henry had put me through, why did I still care so much?
I sighed, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I pulled a simple outfit from the closet–jeans and a warm sweater–and had just started changing when the bedroom door suddenly flew open.
Betty stood in the doorway, her expression fierce. “What are you doing?”
‘I’m just-
‘I knew it! After seeing that ridiculous staged photo, you claim you won’t go find Henry, but here you are getting dressed in the middle of the night?” Betty stormed into the room, positioning herself directly between me and the door. “Sophia, have you lost your mind?” I avoided her gaze, focusing on buttoning my jeans. “I heard a crash when I was on the phone with Benjamin. Henry could be hurt.”
“And?” Betty crossed her arms. “How is that your problem?”
‘It’s not, but-
“No buts! Betty’s voice rose sharply. “This is exactly what Henry wants, He’s manipulating you–again! Creating some fake emergency so you’ll obediently come running back like you always do.”
Her words hit me like cold water.
Was I really that easily influenced? That pathetic?
“Think about it, Sophia,” Betty continued, her voice softening slightly. “Why would Benjamin post that photo where you could see it? Why would you hear a crash? They’re playing you. This is all a setup.”
I sank back onto the bed, the energy draining from my body as clarity settled in. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Betty nodded emphatically. “That man spent five years treating you like garbage. Five years making you feel worthless while he chased after Isabella. And now what? One fake photo, one mysterious crash, and you’re ready to rush to his rescue?”
I closed my eyes, feeling shame wash over me. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Betty said, sitting beside me. “You’re just too kind–hearted for your own good. But it’s time to break the cycle, Sophia. He doesn’t deserve your concern.”
She was right, completely right.
I stood up and began changing back into my pajamas, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment settling in my heart.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I needed that reminder.”
1/2
Chapter 89
Betty smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “That’s what friends are for to tell you when you’re being completely foolish.
Across town, Benjamin stared at his phone in disbelief. “She hung up. She’s not calling back.
Henry, still lying on the VIP room floor, struggled to process this information through his alcohol fogged brain. ‘What? Try again.
“I already did,” Benjamin replied, pocketing his phone. “She’s not answering now.”
Henry tried to push himself upright, his movements uncoordinated and clumsy. ‘She has to come. Tell her… tell her I need her.
Isabella, who had been watching this pathetic display with growing irritation, finally exploded. “Enough! Can’t you see she doesn’t care about you? She’s probably in bed with Thomas right now, laughing at your attempts to get her attention!”
Her words seemed to pierce through Henry’s drunken haze. His expression darkened dangerously. “Don’t talk about my wife like that.”
“Wife?” Isabella laughed bitterly. “The woman who abandoned you? The woman who’s filing for divorce?”
Henry struggled to his feet, swaying dangerously before finding his balance. Benjamin stepped forward to steady him, but Henry shrugged him off.
‘I need air, he muttered, stumbling toward the door.
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