Chapter 47 I Will Get Divorced
Sloane's POV
In the dining room, Jared was standing by the table, setting down a plate of golden-brown toast and scrambled eggs.
He was still wearing that ridiculous pink bear apron. His tall frame paired with the cartoon pattern created an oddly jarring sight.
Seeing me come downstairs, he looked up. His eyes, bloodshot from staying up all night, no longer held last night's defeated look but instead showed a hint of awkward anticipation.
"You're up? Come eat something."
I walked over and sat down at the table. The breakfast in front of me was exactly what I liked.
The toast was perfectly done, the scrambled eggs had finely chopped ham and cheese mixed in, and there was a small bowl of fruit salad on the side.
I picked up my fork and poked at the eggs on my plate without much appetite.
"What's wrong? Not to your liking?" he immediately asked nervously.
"Just a bit surprised," I looked up at him, my tone flat. "Since when did Mr. Montclair start learning to cook?"
He was caught off guard, his ears turning slightly red. He looked away and spoke somewhat awkwardly, "It's nothing, I just... wanted to try taking care of you."
Taking care of me? Or taking care of his future heir?
I sneered inwardly but kept my face expressionless, lowering my head to take a bite of the scrambled eggs. "Tastes good."
Getting my approval, he seemed relieved. He sat down across from me, but his eyes never left me, as if monitoring whether I was finishing everything.
This meal tasted like cardboard to me.
After breakfast, Jared changed into his suit, returning to his cold, elite appearance, ready to go to the office.
I was sitting on the sofa when my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.
It was David, whom I hadn't heard from in a while.
I answered, and his warm, concerned voice came through. "Sloane, how's your hand doing?"
"Much better, thank you, David."
"That's good," he paused, his tone becoming more serious. "About what I mentioned before—the exchange program at University Hospital Zurich starts next month. Are you... still planning to go?"
My heart sank.
Zurich—it had once been the medical mecca I most longed for, the goal I'd worked toward for years.
I instinctively glanced at my left hand, still wrapped in gauze. It had once held a scalpel, saved countless lives, and now struggled even to button a shirt.
Just as I was about to speak, Jared suddenly snatched the phone from my hand.
"She's not going." He coldly dropped those three words into the phone in a tone that brooked no argument, then hung up directly.
"Jared!" I stood up, somewhat angry.
"Your body isn't fit for long-distance flights right now," he looked at me, brows furrowed, his tone commanding. "From now on, just hang up on these pointless calls."
Looking at his matter-of-fact dominance, I was too tired to argue with him.
I just wanted to see David in person, to explain things face to face, to put a period on what had once been my dream.
"I need to go out," I picked up my bag from the sofa. "Drop me off near the research institute."
He seemed surprised that I'd actively ask him to drive me. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Okay."
In the car, he didn't mention the phone call again, just focused on driving. As we neared our destination, he suddenly asked, "Going to see that doctor?"
"Yes."
"Call me when you're done talking. I'll pick you up." He pulled the car over to the side of the road.
I was about to unbuckle my seatbelt when he grabbed my arm again, worriedly instructing, "Don't go too far. It's windy outside, your hand can't get cold again, and..."
He went on and on like an overly concerned housekeeper.
This sudden care felt so foreign it made me uncomfortable all over. I almost laughed at the irony—one minute he was controlling my life, cutting off every escape route, and the next he was worried about whether I was cold.
"Got it." I cut him off, a hint of impatience in my tone, quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, as if something were chasing me from behind.
Through the rearview mirror, I saw that the black Aston Martin didn't leave immediately but stayed parked by the roadside for a long time.
I looked away and walked into the familiar white building. The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and the unique rigorous atmosphere of academic research. This had once been my other world, a place where ability and talent did the talking.
David was waiting for me in his office. Seeing me enter, he smiled warmly and poured me a cup of hot tea.
"Sorry, earlier Jared, he..." I started to explain.
"It's fine, I understand." David waved it off. He looked at me, his blue eyes full of genuine regret. "Sloane, I've seen your medical report. Your hand... are you really not going to reconsider the Zurich program? Their rehabilitation medicine is world-class."
I raised my left hand, looking at the scabs that were still ugly despite healing, and calmly shook my head. "David, I've given up."
"Such a shame," he sighed. "You're the most talented surgeon I've ever seen."
"Maybe this is just fate." I managed a bitter smile. I used to think fate was in my own hands, that I could earn my place in that pure world with a scalpel.
Later I realized that from the moment I stepped into the Montclair family, my fate had already been written by someone else.
"Alright, I respect your decision." David didn't push further, just slid a document toward me. "However, I've applied with the hospital to keep this spot open for you. Sloane, whenever you want to come back, this position will always be yours."
Seeing the trust and encouragement in his eyes, my nose tingled and that cold wasteland in my heart finally felt a trace of warmth. This was something Jared could never give me—pure kindness without any calculation.
"Thank you, David." I said sincerely.
Coming out of the research institute, I stood by the roadside, about to call Jared, when a car stopped in front of me.
The rear window slowly rolled down, revealing a face somewhat similar to Jared's but more imposing and harsh.
It was Aeneas Montclair.
He didn't even look at me, just coldly instructed the driver, "Have her get in."
The driver got out and respectfully opened the car door for me. I stood there without moving, just calmly looking at the high-and-mighty man inside through the door.
Aeneas seemed impatient with my silent resistance. He finally turned his gaze to me, his eyes examining me like an inexpensive commodity, full of scrutiny and contempt.
"I have something I want to discuss with you privately." He spoke, his tone not a request but a notification.
I understood completely.
What had to come would come eventually.
The scene he didn't get to perform at the banquet that night would ultimately be made up.
Nothing more than a check with a few humiliating words, telling me to wisely get out of his son's world.
Looking at him, I suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
I didn't get in the car. I just stood there, meeting his cold gaze, and before he could deliver those predictable lines, I spoke slowly and clearly.
"You needn't bother," I said, watching his brows furrow slightly at my action, my tone utterly calm. "I'll divorce Jared."