Chapter 97: TOO LATE TO REGRET 2
Anna's POV
A cold, visceral wave of hatred and fear surged through my veins. What was he doing here? Did he come to see the damage he caused? Did he come to confirm whether I was dead or alive?
I wanted nothing more than to tear him apart, to make him feel the agonizing physical and emotional torment I had been drowning in since yesterday. That absolute monster.
A ragged groan escaped my lips as he took a slow, calculated step further into my room.
“He got you a private ward, I see,” Seth remarked, his voice completely devoid of empathy. He stood just a few feet away, a smug, sadistic smile plastered across his face.
“Leave us alone,” I said to the nurse, my voice shaky but desperate. She was already reaching for the tray, preparing to inject three syringes into my IV bag.
“But the doctor instructed the need for you to take these medications immediately—” she started to protest.
“I said, leave us!” I snapped, my voice coming out strong and sharp this time around as my grip around the metal pole tightened until my knuckles turned white.
Terrified by the sudden outburst, the nurse immediately backed away and hurried out, leaving only Seth and me alone in the tense, suffocating quiet of the room.
“You look like a zombie,” he sneered, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at me. “But it's a good thing everyone here is taking such good care of you.”
If I had the physical strength to stand up from this bed on my own, I would have killed him right then and there.
Instead, I let out a weak, hollow, bitter laugh—the kind of laugh that carries the entire weight of your broken soul.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“I heard the baby was perfectly fine after you pushed yourself down the stairs yesterday,” he said, his tone casual and indifferent. “So, how about we just go ahead and flush out whatever is remaining of it?”
The sheer, heartless cruelty of his words pushed me straight over the edge.
“I can't believe I let you make such a miserable mess of me!” I shrieked, my voice cracking under the weight of my despair. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, using the last ounce of my strength to drag myself to my feet, stumbling slowly toward him.
“I didn't do a single thing to you, sweetheart,” he sneered, leaning in close, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. “You are the one who willingly cheated on your best friend with her ex-husband while they were still processing their divorce papers.”
Every nerve in my system screamed at me to destroy him.
He leaned down, his breath hot against my face as he delivered the final, crushing blow. “You are the one who let your own greed and jealousy lead you to this exact spot. I want whatever is left of that thing inside you gone. You are not worthy enough to bear my children.”
The confession shattered what was left of my heart. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face as the sickening reality fully set in. How did I never see the monster standing right in front of me? How could I have helped him?
“You fucking bastard!” I screamed, a raw, broken sob tearing from my chest.
I lunged forward, grabbing the fabric of his shirt with both hands. “I hate you! I hate you so much! You are nothing but a complete bastard!” I shrieked into his face, beating my weak fists against his chest as hard as my battered body would allow.
“Oh, please. Get the hell off me,” he groaned, shoving me away with a callous, brutal force.
I lost my balance completely, crashing hard onto the freezing linoleum floor. A sharp fire of physical agony shot through my abdomen, and a loud, deafening ringing filled my ears as my vision began to spin in dark spirals.
“I can't believe you just ruined my neatly pressed clothes,” Seth grumbled, completely unbothered by the woman bleeding on the floor. He adjusted his collar, looking down at me with pure disgust as I desperately tried to push myself up.
“Anyways, I hope you make it. Also, your position at the company has already been replaced. We can't exactly sit around and wait for you forever, can we?” He let out a low chuckle, turned on his heel, and walked out.
The moment the door clicked shut, a devastating cry tore from my throat. I lay curled on the cold floor, feeling like I was genuinely losing my mind.
A few moments later, I heard heavy, deliberate footsteps approaching my ward. Someone walked in, their shadow casting a long darkness over my trembling body. I refused to look up, desperately covering my mouth to silence my pathetic cries—until I realized who was standing over me.
Mr. Armstrong.
I choked on my breath, instantly looking away the moment our eyes met, deeply ashamed of my broken state.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, squatting down beside me.
I couldn't answer. I couldn't even look at him. He gently placed his hands on my shoulders, lifting my weak, trembling frame off the floor and carefully helping me back onto the hospital bed. Even then, I kept my eyes glued to the blanket, unable to face him.
“I will go straight to the point, since there is no need for unnecessary words between us,” Mr. Armstrong said, his voice calm, steady, and sharp. “How long are you planning on living this way? How long are you going to stay wrapped around his finger?”
The question hung heavily in the sterile air.
“I'm just going to leave you my business card,” he continued softly, reaching into his coat pocket. “And I trust you know exactly what you need to do.”
He placed the small white card on the bedside table right next to me. Without another word, he turned and left the room.
The moment the door closed behind him, leaving me completely alone in the quiet ward, I collapsed back onto the mattress. I clutched the sheets tight against my chest and cried, letting the tears flow as if it were the absolute last day of my life.