Chapter523 A Slap in the Face
Oliver strode towards her with determination, grabbing Natalie's wrist. "Natalie, do you really not want to see me?"
She jerked her hand away from him as if she had been electrocuted, and when she looked up, it was into the man's stern face. Her body turned to go in another direction before he had a chance to catch up. She hadn't gone two steps before Oliver blocked her path again.
His expression had darkened, an aura of tension surrounding him. "What’s wrong with your leg?" he asked. He had intended to hold her hand again, but he restrained himself after remembering her earlier, harsh reaction.
"Stay out of it," she replied, instinctively stepping back with her right leg. Looking down at the patterned bricks on the ground, she struggled to keep her voice steady, "What do you want from me? Didn't I already give you the divorce papers?"
She didn't want the indignity of her physical condition to strip away the last of her imposing presence. Some semblance of dignity had to be maintained.
A fresh wave of anger surged within Oliver. "Natalie, do you think the prime years you spent with me are worthless?" he blurted out.
"What did you just say?" Natalie asked, shock lifting her gaze.
"I asked if you’re okay leaving with nothing. If you want something, just ask. I, Oliver, won’t let a woman walk away empty-handed..."
"Smack—"
Before he could finish, a slap landed across his face. The crisp sound echoed as his head turned slightly to one side.
"Oliver, what do you take me for?" Natalie glared at him, incredulous and scoffing.
Oliver immediately regretted his words. His lips parted slightly, but he remained ultimately unspoken.
How could this be? He was just... just afraid she wouldn't fare well outside on her own.
But he was angry too.
"Natalie, you walk away with your dignity, and then what? You tell everyone we're divorced so you can get engaged to someone like Mr. Green? What do you have now?!"
"It's none of your business!" Natalie took a deep breath, fighting to keep her temper in check.
She kept reminding herself: Oliver has a short fuse, don't stoop to his level, just ignore him.
"Oliver, you jerk!" Natalie finally exploded.
She shoved him hard, catching him off guard, and he actually stumbled back.
Natalie brushed past him without a second glance.
Oliver felt enormous excruciating pain.
Right, none of my business. Why should I care? What right do I have to meddle in her affairs?
Natalie hailed a cab, which conveniently pulled up to the curb. She got in without looking back.
Oliver stood rooted to the spot for a long time, smoking two cigarettes in succession, until his restlessness subsided, and he walked into the psychological clinic.
"Good afternoon, sir. Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist, a young nurse, asked with a smile.
"I'm here to see Ms. Davis."
This boutique clinic took the high-end route, and Ms. Davis was the head of the place. Jamie had already sent Oliver some introductory materials about the clinic.
Ms. Davis, a woman in her thirties, exuded a gentle, intellectual aura that immediately instilled a sense of trust and safety.
"Mr. Windsor, I know who you are," Ms. Davis initiated the conversation.
She was a leading psychologist with affluent clients from high society, who naturally knew of Oliver.
"Then you must also know my wife," Oliver said bluntly.
"Of course, Miss Watson is beautiful and talented—someone to be admired even by another woman like me."
"It seems, then, she's the one who came to see you." Oliver settled into a sofa, looking ready for a lengthy chat.
Ms. Davis paused for a second, then said with a smile, "What do you mean, Mr. Windsor? I'm not sure I follow."
"You referred to her as Miss Watson, not Mrs. Windsor, signaling respect for her wish to divorce. And praising her to me means you're not trying to flatter me. Let's cut through the nonsense, Ms. Davis; we're both intelligent people."
"I haven't divorced her yet," Oliver continued, "so discussing her situation with her husband doesn't breach... privacy." He still resisted saying the word patient.
He didn't want to admit to himself that Natalie was seeing a psychologist.
Ms. Davis was clearly taken aback, "No divorce? Then why does everyone think you two split up? Mr. Windsor, you sure are a hoot."
"You think I'm the one who spread those rumors?" Oliver frowned, suddenly spotting the inconsistency.
Ms. Davis obviously stood by Natalie, having access to the same information as Natalie's therapist.
So, Natalie thought he was spreading divorce rumors?
It wasn't just Natalie; others seemed to believe he was the source, too. That explained why brands and studios were quick to cut ties with Natalie.
To the world, Natalie was thought to be cast aside.
A tearful sting hit Oliver’s eyes.
Ms. Davis, well-versed in detecting nuances in speech, expressions, and body language as a therapist, sensed troubles beneath the surface.
"Mr. Windsor, I have no interest in meddling in your personal affairs with Miss Watson," Ms. Davis stated. "However, given the circumstances, I can share information about Miss Watson's condition."
"Go ahead." Oliver's voice was tinged with pain.
"Miss Watson's latest visit concerned her leg - she's developed a stress disorder. The superficial wounds on her right leg are healing. Physically, she's fine, but she can't walk properly. I attempted some psychological counseling today, but to little avail."
Mental health issues aren’t easily remedied; otherwise, there wouldn't be so many relying on medication to manage depression and mania.
"And the last time?" Oliver sharply caught the implication in her words.
Ms. Davis sighed, shaking her head. "Mr. Windsor, don't you know? That was over a month ago. She developed anorexia as a stress response - that was when she first sought my help."
Leaving the clinic, Oliver was chilled to his core, every bit of him quivering with regret and sorrow.
Jamie found Oliver leaning against his sports car, chain-smoking; cigarette butts littered around him.
"Sir, the lady has already gone home... well, back to Maple Villa," reported the driver hesitantly.
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