Chapter 230: Mia Gets Expelled
The drawn blackout curtains left the bedroom in total darkness, making it impossible to see even a hand in front of your face.
Mia stood in the doorway, peering into the room by the faint light from the hall.
She spotted James immediately.
He sat on the bed, his form shrouded in darkness, with only half of his profile visible.
As Mia’s eyes adjusted to the dark, James became more visible.
After just a day, he appeared even thinner.
Despite her mental preparation on the way over, seeing him again felt like a tight squeeze on Mia's heart.
The sharp pain stole her breath away.
She gripped the paper bag tighter as her emotions spiraled.
She pressed her lips together, fighting to hold back her emotions.
James kept his head lowered, refusing to look at her as he coldly ordered her to leave.
"Mia, didn't I make myself clear on the phone? I don't want to see you. Get out of my house now."
James saw that Mia still didn't budge, even after his warning.
The old Mia might have tolerated him speaking to her that way.
But the current Mia would have turned cold and walked away immediately.
Unable to get out of bed to force her out, he feared she would come closer and discover the truth.
Unable to stop her from entering, he grabbed a pillow and yelled, "I told you to get lost! Did you hear me?"
His tone was harsh and aggressive as he roughly threw it at her.
But the pillow, which should have struck Mia directly, missed its mark entirely.
The pillow hit the floor, landing an arm’s length away from her.
James’s hands tightened into fists.
He couldn't bear to.
Even though a pillow wouldn't have hurt, he couldn't bring himself to cause her any pain.
Mia stopped and watched as James lost his temper.
"I heard you," she responded, her tone perfectly calm.
She showed no sign of anger.
She remained indifferent.
About why Lavinia was at his place.
About those extremely suggestive things Lavinia had said.
Or about him cursing at her.
She didn't care about any of it.
Of course she wouldn't care.
Since the divorce, he was the only one who still cared.
He was the one who wanted to reconcile, to close the distance and start over.
Mia only thought about how to keep her distance and draw clear boundaries.
He had known the moment he placed the call that she didn't care.
But seeing her composure with his own eyes, his heart still tightened into a painful knot.
James tightened his grip even further, his gaze turning icy as he snarled, "If you heard me, then get out. Don't ruin my mood."
"That's right, Mia—"
Lavinia was about to speak when Mia interrupted her. "These are your things," she said. "I'm leaving them here."
She continued to treat Lavinia as if she didn't exist.
She leaned over to set the paper bag on the shelf, then turned to depart.
Hearing Mia's words, James forced himself to keep his head down.
But as her footsteps receded, he found himself unable to resist looking up.
He watched powerlessly as Mia’s silhouette faded from his sight.
Until a sound came from the front door.
She really left.
Driven away by him.
As soon as Mia departed, the hostile aura surrounding James intensified.
Lavinia, standing at the bedroom doorway, stepped inside. "James—"
"Hand me the paper bag."
James’s voice was chillingly cold.
Lavinia didn't understand why, but still picked it up and handed it to him.
James reached out to take it, then said to Lavinia, "You should go too. Tell Robert whatever you like."
He'd asked her to come over and put on an act.
So he'd repay her with money.
James was never stingy with things that could be solved with money.
Lavinia instinctively moved to clarify that she hadn't come for jewelry or handbags, but catching a glimpse of James's frigid profile, she wisely held her tongue.
She couldn't be too hasty.
"Thank you."
Lavinia didn't defy James; she obediently backed out of the bedroom and turned to leave.
The open bedroom door allowed the light from inside to spill out, growing steadily brighter.
James opened the two paper bags Mia had brought.
The sight of the contents sparked a violent surge of emotion in his eyes.
His heart tightened in waves of pain.
Everything he'd left at Mia's place was inside.
Even a pair of cufflinks had been returned.
Packed up so cleanly.
Really not even a shred of attachment?
Couldn't keep something as a keepsake?
Cutting off their relationship so decisively, so heartless toward him.
James gazed intently at the objects.
The longer he stared, the deeper his heartache grew.
His heart was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions.
In a sudden loss of control, he violently swept both paper bags onto the floor.
The pain in his heart was unbearable, and he found no way to release it.
James wanted to smash things again, but early this morning, the breakfast Robert had brought had been smashed all over the floor by him, and he'd driven the caregiver away too.
He had already shattered everything on the nightstand that could be broken.
The last pillow had been thrown at Mia.
At this moment, only the blanket covering his legs remained on the bed.
He grabbed it and threw it to the floor.
Without the blanket's cover, his legs were exposed.
Straight and long.
To the naked eye, they looked perfectly fine.
But he knew—these legs were truly ruined.
He didn't regret driving his car to block Amelia from hitting Mia.
It's just, why.
Why did his legs have to be crippled?
He couldn't bear to lose Mia or let her go; he only wanted to be with her.
But how could he be with Mia when he was destined to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair?
With nothing left to vent on.
Only his hands remained.
He kept pounding on his numb legs.
James was consumed by grief.
He was oblivious to the noises coming from outside.
Until, quite suddenly, another figure appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
The light from the hallway threw the person's shadow across the floor, where it fell directly over his exposed legs.
James’s hands, mid-strike against his legs, instantly froze.
Except for the one person granted special access, no one would dare enter his home without permission.
As if in slow motion, James slowly turned his head toward the bedroom doorway.
As he caught sight of Mia, his face went pale with shock, and his eyes mirrored pure disbelief.
It really was Mia!
Hadn't she just been driven away by him?
With her current temper, once she left angry, she would never turn back.
How could she have come back?
James stared unblinkingly at the bedroom doorway, as if afraid to close his eyes for even a second.
Because he thought it was impossible.
Even though he saw her clearly, he feared she was merely a hallucination born from his desperate longing.
He remained frozen in that stare, not daring to blink.
Until the "hallucination" at the door spoke first, "Do your hands hurt?"