Chapter 62
Sullivan was well aware that Megan’s loss of appetite wasn’t due to illness–it was because of him.
Because he refused to grant her a divorce, she had sunk into a melancholic state, no longer wanting to engage in conversation with anyone.
Without tuming around, he simply uttered, “I know
The nurse, not daring to say more, quickly made her exit.
The hospital staff had been buzzing with gossip these past few days. Some whispered that Mr. Lowry had a young mistress on the side, driving Mrs. Lowry to attempt suicide. Others speculated that Mr. Lowry’s overwhelming love had suffocated his wife, plunging her into depression.
Despite the chatter, the details of Megan’s suicide attempt were carefully kept within the hospital walls.
Sullivan finished his cigarette before returning to the room.
After three days of rest, Megan was almost back to her normal sell, save for the bandaged wrists. When Sullivan entered, she was propped up against the headboard, engrossed in a book, her hair cascading over her frail shoulders, the hospital gown hanging loosely ⠀on her frame.
Sullivan glanced at the small round table. Breakfast remained untouched. He gently closed the door behind him,
The slight noise caught Megan’s attention, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his.
Sullivan didn’t rush in. Leaning against the door frame, he watched her. The nurse said you haven’t been eating. What’s the matter? Don’t like hospital food? I can have the cook whip up something from home and bring it over. What do you say?”
Megan shook her head. “I’m not hungry,” she said softly.
Sullivan’s eyes were deep and unreadable, stirring a tempest inside Megan,
He slowly approached her, pulling the book from her hands as he reached the bedside. Megan instinctively clutched the sheets.
He noticed her tension and gently caressed her delicate cheek, his touch tender, yet Megan trembled under his palm. She was afraid of him.
His gaze grew more intense, and he spoke in a husky voice, “Not hungry, or just can’t stomach food because you’re by my side? Which is it Megan? Tell me…”
He rarely called her by her first name, he usually called her Mrs. Lowry, with a hint of mockery.
Megan closed her eyes, her neck tense. After a moment, she spoke in a voice laced with despair. “Sullivan, let’s get a divorce, please. Let me go. There’s no love between us. You even despise me… why continue this charade? Sullivan, I want a normal life, not this… not as Mrs. Lowry.”
Her plea was accompanied by tears.
Sullivan continued to stroke her face, listening to her beg for freedom.
Megan had seldom pleaded with him like this before.
Despite how terribly he had treated her over the past three years, she had never broken down until now. Was being with him so agonizing? He remembered a time when she seemed to adore him..
A complex mix of emotions swirled within Sullivan. It was like that night when Megan was drunk and mumbled in her sleep that she didn’t like him, leaving him with an ache in his chest.
Sullivan thought he shouldn’t feel this way. He should not feel pity for her!
His hand encountered a cold dampness–Megan’s tears. Her eyes were closed, her beautiful face vulnerable in a way he had violated countless times, but never once loved.
He slowly withdrew his hand
By the time Megan opened her eyes, Sullivan had already left the room.
The door closed softly behind him, and his footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing fainter and fainter with each step..
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