Chapter 215
“Move back to Maple Grove, Henry repeated, his voice unnervingly calm. “You and Billy take the house, and 11 move out. How does that sound?
I nearly thoked. Was this man seriously delusional? I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, the sound harsh even to my own eart.
“Mr. Harding, you need medical attention,” I said. ‘We’re heading to the hospital anyway–why don’t I introduce you to a neurologist? Have your head examined while you’re there.”
Henry’s knuckles whitened as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. I’m being serious, Sophia.”
“So am I!” I shot back. “You must be suffering from some kind of brain damage to think I’d ever move back into that prison.”
The freedom I’d found since leaving Maple Grove was intoxicating.
No more walking on eggshells, no more cold silences, no more pretending to be the perfect Harding wife. I finally felt like myself again. Why would I give that up?
I’ve been patient. I’ve been considerate,” Henry said throu
gritted teeth. “And what do I get in return? Nothing but mockery and insults!
I snorted. “Considerate? Is that what you call stealing my bag and forcing me into your car?
“Sophia, stop pushing me,” he warned, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Don’t test my limits. You won’t like what happens when I snap.
I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Oh, I’m terrified. What are you going to do–kill me?”
*If you keep provoking me, I might!” he exploded, his composure finally cracking.
I crossed my arms, feeling strangely emboldened. “Go ahead, then. Right now. Let’s see who dies faster.”
I knew full well he couldn’t do anything while driving through morning traffic. His hands were quite literally tied to the wheel. The knowledge made me braver than I should have been.
Without warning, Henry took one hand off the steering wheel and reached toward me. I instinctively recoiled, struggling against his grip. The car swerved violently, nearly crashing into a tree lining the street.
“My God!” I screamed, genuine terror flooding through me as the car narrowly missed a head–on collision with the sidewalk.
Henry expertly corrected the vehicle’s trajectory, his driving skills saving us from disaster. We both sat in shocked silence for several seconds, the near- accident having scared the fight out of us.
“Are you completely insane?” I finally shouted, my heart still pounding in my chest. “It’s rush hour! Keep both hands on the wheel and drive properly!”
Henry reluctantly withdrew his hand, his jaw clenched so tightly I could see a muscle twitching in his cheek.
“What is wrong with you?” I continued, anger and residual fear making my voice shake. “How childish can you be? Just… just stop this nonsense. Let’s end this cleanly and go our separate ways. Don’t you want to move on? Be happy?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “This… whatever this is you’re doing… it only makes me think you can’t let go. And we both know that’s not the
case.”
Henry’s eyes flickered to my face, his expression unreadable. I felt heat rising to my cheeks under his intense scrutiny, and I hated myself for it. Even after everything, this man still had the power to make me blush like a schoolgirl.
The rest of the drive passed in tense silence. As soon as the hospital came into view, I practically lunged for my purse, which Henry had placed between us. Before he could react, I had grabbed it and flung the car door open.
“Sophia-” he started, but I was already halfway across the parking lot, practically jogging toward the hospital entrance without looking back.
Henry watched Sophia’s retreating figure, the early morning sunlight catching in her hair as she hurried away from him. His phone’s ringing interrupted his
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Chapter 215
thoughts. An unknown number flashed on the screen.
Normally, he would ignore such calls, but something made him answer.
“Hello?
Chaos greeted him. There was sobbing in the background, a flurry of urgent voices, and finally, a nurse’s clipped, professional tone broke through.
Is this Miss Scott’s family? The patient has lost consciousness and stopped breathing. We’re resuscitating her now, but we need a family member to sign consent forms immediately. Please hurry–time is critical. Every life deserves respect, sir.”
Before Henry could respond, the call disconnected.
He sat frozen, his mind racing. Despite everything–the manipulations, the lies, the damage Isabella had done to his marriage–could he really turn his back on someone who might be dying?
After several moments of internal struggle, he put the car in gear and headed toward Isabella’s hospital.
Ten minutes later, Henry strode through the emergency center doors, his face a mask of tension. Nancy spotted him immediately and rushed over.
w–if we wait any longer, Miss Scott might not make it!”
“Mr. Harding, please hurry and sign! They’re working on her right now–i
Without asking questions, Henry took the clipboard the nurse thrust at him and signed his name with swift, decisive strokes.
The moment he finished, a middle–aged woman with red–rimmed eyes appeared, grabbing the front of his suit jacket in her fists.
“You heartless bastard!” she spat, her face contorted with rage. “My Isabella left her home for you! She’s sick because she pines for you! And what do You abandon her in a hospital while she’s dying from an incurable disease!”
you
do?
The woman’s voice rose higher, attracting stares from everyone in the waiting area. “Have you forgotten everything she’s done for you? When you two were happy together, she nearly died for you! Without her, you’d have been dead years ago!”
The hospital director appeared, his face creased with concern at the growing spectacle.
He quickly ushered Henry and the hysterical woman–who Henry now recognized as Isabella’s aunt Margaret–into a private break room.
Once inside, Margaret’s sobs intensified. Recently, Margaret had been pressuring Isabella about getting her son out of prison. During their confrontation, Isabella had suddenly collapsed.
“I was terrified. Isabella and I were just talking, and suddenly she fainted,” Margaret lied between sobs. “Thank God Nancy knew what to do and called for doctors right away.”
Margaret had watched in horror as they wheeled her niece into emergency care. One of the nurses mentioned the resuscitation would cost at least $110,000. It was money Margaret didn’t have, but she couldn’t just leave–her son’s freedom depended on Isabella’s help.
When she overheard the nurse contacting Henry, Margaret had seen her opportunity. The moment she spotted him walking through the hospital doors, she’d latched onto him like a drowning woman clutching at flotsam.
Now, safely ensconced in the break room, Margaret’s tears flowed even more dramatically. She jabbed a finger at Henry’s chest, her voice rising again.
“You’re nothing but an ungrateful snake!” she shouted. “Marrying another woman, forgetting everything Isabella did for you! How dare you betray he
