Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 43

Michael cleated his throat awkwardly, deing his voice Mrs Parker, are you absolutely sure you have no other injuries?

“Thank you for your concern,” I replied, loud enough to be heard inside the room. I’m the

The scene that grested us could have been lifted straight from a daytime soap opera. Laurel reclined against a mountain of pillows, er designer hospital gown arranged just so, while Blake sat beside her, peeling an apple with devoted concentration. Their clothing was subtly disheveled not enough to be improper, but just enough to suggest intimate comfort.

“Well, well. Laurel’s eyes found me immediately, her smile razor–sharp. Mr. Chen took quite a while to fetch you, Mise Sinclair. You’re rather difficult to reach these days.”

Once again, she called me “Miss Sinclair the implications couldn’t have been clearer. In her mind, she was already Mrs. Parker.

The distance between floors accounted for the delay. I kept my voice calm, refusing to engage with her performance.

Her expression shifted instantly, vulnerability showing up. “Blake darling… Her lower lip trembled as she turned to him. What is she implying? That you re playing favorites with the hospital rooms?”

never said that,” I

have to.” Her voice sounded sweet but was full of spite. “Blake darling, I told you I didn’t need the VIP suite. I’m not some princess… you insisted.

to me, his voice cold. “Laurel’s injuries are more severe. That’s why she’s here. If you were actually ill, I would

of coldness wash over me. The man I had once loved was taciturn, sharp–witted, calm, and unruly. Even when he was blind, he could judge a person’s character and qualities based on just a few words. But now, with his clear eyes,

regain their sight only

threaten me with the divorce?” I asked quietly.

the pain that shot through my body. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll return to my rest. Remember to transfer the fifty million from our bet to my

a whip. “After what you did to Laurel on the track, don’t you think you owe her

voice softened with practiced vulnerability. “Miss Sinclair won’t apologize. She

–

rammed my car when I slowed

won’t force her to apologize,” Laurel continued, her voice thick with unshed tears. “My feelings don’t matter… I’ll just cry