Chapter 85 Jared Hasn’t Come Back Yet
Sloane's POV
Aeneas was so angry at Jared's stubborn attitude that his face turned pale. He probably knew he couldn't change Jared's mind, so he poured all his anger onto me.
He suddenly turned on me, his cloudy eyes now filled with disgust and contempt. "You woman! What kind of spell did you cast on Jared?! You think you can marry into a wealthy family like this? Dream on! A woman like you, with your low-class background and scheming mind, doesn't deserve to step through the Montclair family's door!"
His words were like sharp knives, stabbing deep into my heart.
I tried hard to control myself, not letting my tears fall.
I told myself not to care, not to pay attention.
But those vicious words still wrapped around my heart like poisonous snakes, making it almost impossible to breathe.
The atmosphere around Jared instantly dropped to freezing point. He suddenly stepped forward, his tall figure completely overshadowing Aeneas. His eyes burned with two terrifying flames of anger, his tone as cold as an ice-tempered blade. "Father! Please watch your words! Sloane is my wife, not someone for you to insult at will!"
"I'm insulting her?!" Aeneas trembled with rage, pointing at my nose, his voice sharp and piercing. "I'm just telling the truth! She's a scheming woman! She wants to climb up to the Montclair family! Otherwise, why won't she agree to divorce?! She's just a..."
"Enough!" Jared cut him off sharply, his voice carrying unprecedented anger and restraint. "I'll say it one more time—she is my wife! If you dare say one more word to hurt her, don't blame me for forgetting our father-son relationship!"
Aeneas was frightened by Jared's almost breaking-point attitude. He opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing more, just glared at me fiercely before storming off.
After Aeneas and Arthur left, Jared slowly turned around. He looked at me, and in those deep eyes, the anger faded, leaving only deep heartache and guilt.
He reached out, gently touching my cheek, his fingertips caressing me, his voice terribly hoarse. "I'm sorry, Sloane. I let you suffer."
I shook my head, but my eyes were a bit moist.
I looked at him, a self-mocking smile forming on my lips, and said softly, "It's okay, I... I'm used to it."
His arms holding me suddenly stiffened, and in those deep eyes, overwhelming guilt and pain instantly surged.
He pulled me tightly into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head, warm breath falling on my face, his voice so low it was almost broken. "Sloane... I'm sorry... I..."
He wanted to say something but in the end just tightened his arms, holding me even closer.
I leaned against him, feeling the steady, strong heartbeat in his chest. The grievance and sadness caused by Aeneas gradually dissipated under his silent comfort.
After a long while, he finally released me, cupping my face, his gaze focused and serious. "Sloane, you should go home first."
I was startled and looked up at him. The exhaustion and worry in his eyes were clearly visible.
After all, Keira was injured because of him—he couldn't really ignore it.
I softly said "Mm" and nodded in agreement.
I looked at him, a smile of understanding forming on my lips. "Go ahead, she needs you here."
He looked at me, complex emotions in his eyes. Finally, he just leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead, his voice hoarse but solemn. "Wait for me at home."
I watched his retreating figure until he disappeared at the end of the emergency room corridor, then slowly looked away.
The warmth in my heart that had just been comforted was diluted somewhat by this sudden separation.
I took a deep breath, turned around, and prepared to leave this depressing place.
I returned to the estate, and the warmth in my heart, blown by the night wind, took on a chill.
I picked up my phone, my fingertips finding Jared's name in my contacts. After hesitating, I still called.
The call connected quickly, and his low voice came through, carrying a hint of barely noticeable fatigue.
"How is Keira?" I asked.
"The doctor said she needs to stay in the hospital for observation." His voice was calm, revealing little emotion.
The complicated feelings in my heart eased quite a bit.
At least it wasn't the situation I was most worried about.
"You should rest early." He comforted me with a few words, telling me not to overthink, then hung up.
After washing up, I lay in bed. The space beside me was cold, without his warmth.
Outside the window, rain began to fall, large drops beating against the glass with a pattering sound.
In the middle of the night, a thunderclap exploded outside the window, jolting me awake from sleep. I sat up abruptly, my heart still racing uncontrollably.
I instinctively reached for the space beside me, but only felt cold emptiness. He hadn't come back yet.
I picked up my phone—the screen showed it was already 3 AM.
A sudden unease rose in my heart.
He wasn't the type to mix work and personal life, and besides, Keira only had a sprain and mild concussion—not enough to keep him out all night.
I called him, only to find his phone was turned off.
The cold rainy night, the turned-off phone, and Keira lying in that hospital room, watching me like a predator. A chill ran from my feet straight to the top of my head.
In my heart, I trusted Jared, trusted his promise to me last night, trusted his determination.
But Keira was no good person—she'd stop at nothing to achieve her goals.
And those people in the Montclair family who had ill intentions toward me would love nothing more than to drive me away from Jared's side.
I worried they would take advantage of Keira's injury to set some trap and scheme against Jared.
I jumped out of bed and paced around the room. I couldn't just sit and wait.
Suddenly, I thought of Christian.
He at least seemed more rational than Aeneas and Arthur.
But I didn't have Christian's contact information.
I hurriedly found my phone and scrolled to Hannah's number.
Although it was already late at night, I couldn't worry about that.
The phone rang for a long time before being answered. Hannah's voice was thick with sleep. "Sloane? It's so late—what happened?"
"Hannah, Jared hasn't come home." I got straight to the point, my voice carrying a hint of suppressed anxiety.
The other end of the line instantly went quiet, then Hannah's voice shot up, all sleepiness gone, replaced by burning fury. "What?! He hasn't come home?! He sent that little bitch Keira back to the hospital and then stayed out all night?!"
She was indignant, her tone full of condemnation toward Jared and heartache for me. "I knew that woman was trouble! Sloane, don't worry, I'll go find him right now and see how he explains this to me! I'm going to tear that hospital apart and drag that shameless woman out!"
"Hannah, calm down." I quickly tried to stop her, my voice carrying a hint of helplessness. "I'm not asking you to cause trouble, I'm just... worried about Jared."
"Worried about him?" Hannah's voice was full of disbelief. "He's doing this and you're still worried about him? Sloane, you're just too nice—that's why they bully you like this!"