Chapter 21
Chloe's previous fragility was all an act, but now she truly felt like she was gasping for air, on the brink of death. She couldn't believe the nerve of this old crone calling her a homewrecker in front of everyone.
'She knew damn well who I was but pretended otherwise just to humiliate me.' Chloe had no choice but to lean on Francis, her voice barely a whisper, choking up, "Abigail, you have it all wrong. I didn't..."
"Miss Musk," Abigail snapped, "It would be best if you are not his mistress. And do remember, keeping a proper distance from a married man is the bare minimum of social etiquette."
Her cold gaze swept toward Chloe's hand, which was clutching Francis's arm. Abigail was terrifying Chloe into letting go. If Francis hadn't caught her in time, she would have ended up on the floor.
Francis frowned, "Mom, Chloe is not in the best of health. Don't be so harsh. You're scaring her."
He shielded Chloe with his body, turning into a wall that blocked all harm.
Tears welled up in Harper's eyes, but she forced them back. She had thought herself numb by now, yet witnessing this scene made her heart ache as if it were filled with shards of gravel.
'I'm resolved to let go, to bless their union...
Why then do I have to see him there, so tenderly safeguarding another woman?'
A pain sliced through her chest as if carved out with a knife. The throbbing ache and rawness made her want to curl up and hide away in some dark nook.
—Slam!
Abigail's hand came down hard on the table as her fierce gaze locked onto Francis.
"Chloe could be dying, and it's none of your business. Have you shown any concern for your wife since you walked into this room?"
"You know, she got slashed twice by a thief trying to retrieve your grandpa's life-saving medication. She endured eight stitches without any anesthesia!"
"She didn't even know who I was and had risked her life for me... Such a kind and good-hearted girl doesn't deserve to be hurt by you."
The more Abigail spoke, the angrier she became. Catching the sight of Chloe clinging to Francis like a vine, her anger boiled over. Pointing toward the door, she bellowed, "Get out! Both of you get out!"
Chloe tugged at Francis's sleeve because she had been longing to leave.
'This old witch is a tough nut to crack, and I can't stand her verbal assaults,' Chloe mused.
With pitiful eyes, she pleaded, "Francis..."
However, the man seemed not to hear her. His dark eyes fixated on the frail figure on the bed.
Chloe, feeling a surge of panic, tugged at his arm once more, jolting him out of his daze, and he led her out with him as he walked away.
Triumph flashed across Chloe's face. 'It doesn't matter that little wretch was hurt. Francis is still leaving her behind...'
But in the next moment, Francis handed Chloe over to Victor with a cold command, "Ensure Chloe gets home safely."
Chloe stood there, dumbstruck.
Francis had actually left her behind!
—Ah!
Her scream pierced the air as she clutched her chest and collapsed to the floor in agony.
She was hoping that Francis would look back.
Francis's indulgence and affection toward her were well known in Westerlyn.
Even she believed that Francis loved her deeply, that he would indulge her whims, that he would follow her abroad to bring her back.
Chloe never expected that, though he often flew out to see her, he never broached the subject of her returning home.
Hearing about his marriage back home had struck her like a bolt from the blue.
If not for her health, she would have returned much sooner.
And when she came back, Francis had treated her well, making her believe everything could return to the way it was.
But now, she watched as Francis's footsteps faded away down the corridor without hesitation, disappearing.
Victor watched Chloe perform a spectacle on the ground and bent down to help her up. "Let's get going, Miss Musk..."
Whipping out her designer handbag, Chloe smacked it across Victor's face.
"Don't you touch me."
With those scornful words, she got up smoothly, her eyes filled with malevolence.
In the hospital room.
Abigail was feeding Harper, which made her feel a bit embarrassed.
"Abigail, I can manage on my own," Harper insisted, her left hand still functioning, though with some difficulty.
Gently wiping Harper's mouth with a napkin, Abigail said in a soft voice, "Don't be shy with me. You shouldn't forget who you injured that hand for. Let me take care of you. It would set my heart at ease."
Abigail's words were filled with sincerity, and Harper could no longer decline without seeming ungrateful. So, she graciously accepted, "Thank you, Abigail."
"You really shouldn't call me 'Abigail' anymore. Perhaps it's time for a change?" Abigail said with a teasing smile.
Harper opened her mouth but hesitated, too embarrassed to say the word. Though she was fond of Abigail, it felt wrong to call her 'Mom' now that her marriage to Francis was close to its end.
Seeing Harper's reluctance, Abigail wasn't upset. She simply held Harper's uninjured hand, sharing, "You wouldn't believe how overjoyed I was when I figured out that you were my daughter-in-law. My daughter Fiona is always running around, never settling down, and I've always dreamed of having a peaceful and quiet daughter like you. Unbelievably, it seems like my wish came true so soon."
With Abigail's heartfelt confession, Harper found it hard to let her down. Her cheeks flushed, and she softly uttered, "Mom."
"Ah, there's my good girl," beamed Abigail, slipping a gleaming jade bracelet off her wrist and onto Harper's without waiting for approval.
"I've worn this bracelet for forty years, and now it's time for you to have it."
"No, I can't accept this. It's too valuable, and I'm about to—"
'Divorce your son.'
Harper couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence, not wanting to dampen Abigail's spirits.
Holding Harper's hand, Abigail said in a tender voice, "You don't understand. Seeing you wield that knife with such determination, I felt your pain. I wondered what hardships you had gone through to have that kind of resilience in the face of danger. Right then, I just wanted to pull you into my arms."
"So, please accept my affection. Let me take care of you properly."
Abigail's warm words melted something inside Harper's guarded heart.
Growing up without parents, she had forced herself from a tender age to act beyond her years, using her slight frame to care for her elderly Grandma.
Then came Francis. She often found herself treading on eggshells, painstakingly nurturing their fragile bond—a luxury so foreign to her that she had long forgotten what it felt like to be cherished, to be shielded with gentle care. She realized, 'Such warmth is utterly soothing...'
Tears welled up in Harper's eyes as she choked out a "Thank you, Mom."
Francis returned unexpectedly. Harper was surprised. Despite the recent warmth from Abigail, seeing him again soured her mood. She realized she'd never be his priority. Chloe always came first.
Abigail's expression soured, too, at the sight of Francis. "What are you doing back here? I thought you were practically adopted by the Musk family, always at their beck and call—so busy and involved!"
With a cold face, Francis glanced at Harper's bandaged hand, wrapped up like a dumpling. His frown deepened.
But Abigail was relentless. "Francis, let me warn you, if Dylan finds out about your escapades with other women, you'll have your legs broken!"
"Even if you're my son, I won't lift a finger in your defense."
Abigail's voice faltered as a mild asthma attack seized her, coughs interrupting her scolding.
Harper rushed to calm her. "Mom, please, don't upset yourself. Francis has actually been kind to me."
'It wasn't a lie. Aside from not loving me and preferring Chloe, Francis hadn't treated me too badly. After all, we were together for two years. That was longer than most people keep a pet, and even pets get a fair share of affection,' Harper thought.
"You're still defending him?" Abigail chided, though her tone softened significantly.
"Mom, Dylan asked about you. You should go back. I'll bring Harper home later," Francis said, stressing the word home. Harper's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly subdued her reaction. His comment was for his mother's benefit.
"At least you have some conscience. Listen, except for work. You are not to go anywhere else. You make sure Harper is taken care of. I'll be checking in!" With a few more instructions about dietary precautions, Abigail finally exited.
The room was left with just the two of them and an uncomfortable, charged silence.
Francis remained silent, intensifying the awkward tension.
Harper thought he might be angry.
After narrowly missing the chance to marry the woman of his dreams today, the tension between them was palpable.
She was the first to break the ice. "Sorry for the delay. Maybe we can still make it if we head to the Marriage Registry Office now."
Francis paused for a few seconds before he replied, "You think my mom is just going to let this slide?"
Considering the tenacious personality of Abigail, Harper had to agree that Francis had got the point.
Her petite face crumpled with worry. "Then, I guess we'll have to postpone telling your mom about the divorce until I'm better. For now, you'll just have to bear with me—"
Before she could finish, Harper found her chin gently grasped, and her face turned.
Francis's features were inches from hers, his piercing eyes filled with an unreadable tenderness.
"Does it hurt?" he inquired softly.
Without warning, Harper's heart skipped a beat. 'Was he—showing concern for me?'
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