Holly Sinclair forced her aching body to clean up the mess on the large bed.
She and Tristan Sterling had just finished a round of vigorous, passionate lovemaking on it.
The bathroom light was on; the man was in the shower.
He disliked the household staff entering the master bedroom, so she was the one who had to clean up the chaotic mess.
Their clothes were scattered across the floor. Holly Sinclair picked them up one piece at a time. When she saw that he had torn her lingerie to shreds, she couldn't help but blush, her heart pounding as an unstoppable smile spread across her face.
Her heart was filled with delight and shyness.
Tristan Sterling was like a completely different person tonight.
He showed a passion he'd never shown before.
Before, sleeping with her had been like a routine chore for him, devoid of passion, let alone warmth.
But tonight, he had shed his usual reserved and ascetic image, transforming from a cold, detached saint into an insatiable beast.
'Two years... Have I finally warmed his icy heart?'
"Hiss..."
A sharp pain suddenly twisted in her lower abdomen, and Holly Sinclair sucked in a quiet breath.
'He was too rough just now.'
She had been quite uncomfortable the whole time, but it was the first time he had ever been so passionate with her. Not wanting to ruin his enthusiasm, she had endured the pain and accommodated him.
'I thought it would get better after a while, but it seems the pain is getting worse now...'
DING~
Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand chimed with a notification.
It was Tristan Sterling's phone.
Clutching her lower abdomen, Holly Sinclair walked over and instinctively glanced at the lit-up screen.
—Why aren't you here yet?
No name, no contact information saved.
She picked up the phone, intending to open the message.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
A man's cold voice suddenly rang out from behind her.
Holly Sinclair panicked and stammered, "No... I..."
Tristan Sterling strode forward, his face expressionless. He snatched the phone back and glanced at the screen.
Without offering her any explanation, he walked straight into the walk-in closet to change.
Watching the sexy, alluring lines of his back, her lips parted, but she stopped herself before any words could come out.
'She wanted to ask who had sent the message, but she knew she had no right to.'
In just a few moments, Tristan Sterling emerged from the walk-in closet, fully dressed, calmly and elegantly fastening his cufflinks.
"Tristan..."
Seeing him walk straight toward the door without giving her so much as a glance, Holly Sinclair rushed forward in a panic, barefoot, and grabbed his sleeve.
A flicker of disgust flashed through Tristan Sterling's eyes.
Holly Sinclair saw it and instinctively let go, murmuring, "I... My stomach hurts a little..."
"Is this a joke?" he sneered.
"..." She was speechless.
'Was he implying I'm lying? Just to make him stay?'
'Misunderstood. Again!'
A bitter feeling welled up in Holly Sinclair's chest, leaving her speechless.
While she was lost in her daze, Tristan Sterling had already strode out of the bedroom.
"Tristan, Tristan... Hiss..."
She wanted to run after him and explain, but a sharp, twisting pain in her lower abdomen stopped her in her tracks.
A moment later, the familiar sound of a car engine echoed up from the garage below.
Fighting through the pain, Holly Sinclair made her way to the balcony and watched helplessly as Tristan Sterling's car sped away from the house.
Her face went pale, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, her vision went black and she collapsed.
...
"A ruptured corpus luteum is very dangerous. It's a good thing her housekeeper brought her to the hospital in time."
"Tsk. Young people these days have no self-control. No matter how in love you are, you can't be that reckless."
"Love? I'm not so sure about that."
"What do you mean?"
"If a man really loves a woman, how could he bear to hurt her? She has some pretty severe tearing down there, not to mention all these shocking marks on her body. If you ask me, it looks more like intentional abuse."
"Don't say things like that. You might cause trouble in their marriage."
"She's still unconscious. Besides, I'm not wrong. Now, the patient in room 8-6, that's what you call love. Vivian Linton, that qipao designer who's super famous right now, just had a mild headache, and her boyfriend was a nervous wreck. He stayed by her side and took care of her all night. But then you have this one... her husband still hasn't even shown up."
The two nurses gossiped in low voices as they set up an IV drip for the unconscious Holly Sinclair.
'Vivian Linton?'
'She's back in the country?'
Beneath the blanket, Holly Sinclair's hand suddenly clenched into a fist.
...
Holly Sinclair stood frozen outside room 8-6, peering inside.
Vivian Linton was reclining weakly on the hospital bed, while Tristan Sterling stood beside her like a guardian angel.
A nurse was preparing to put Vivian on an IV drip.
When she saw the nurse take out the syringe, Vivian suddenly threw herself into Tristan Sterling's arms.
"Tristan!" she cried out in a delicate voice.
"It's okay." Tristan Sterling patted her on the shoulder, then told the nurse, "Be gentle. She's afraid of pain."
'She's afraid of pain...'
Holly Sinclair laughed.
A miserable, desolate laugh.
The intimate scene between Tristan Sterling and Vivian Linton was like an invisible pair of hands, cruelly squeezing her heart.
Crushing it, tearing it apart.
Leaving it a bloody mess.
The tearing pain between her legs was a sharp reminder of the world of difference between her and Vivian Linton in his eyes.
'If a man really loves a woman, how could he bear to hurt her?'
The nurse's words echoed in her ears, each one feeling like a vicious slap across her face.
Heh.
'How stupid I am!'
'To think I'd naively mistaken his brutality last night for affection, even blissfully imagining my sincerity had finally moved him.'
'In the end, it was all just my own wishful thinking!'
She'd had a secret crush on him for six years and been married to him for two. She had loved him for eight whole years!
For those eight years, he was her entire world.
But what about him?
His entire world was Vivian Linton!
Her devotion was worthless in his eyes. Her profound love was nothing but a joke.
She couldn't move his heart in all the years Vivian Linton was gone. Now that Vivian was back, it was even more impossible for him to ever love her.
Enough.
She was done trying to warm a heart that couldn't be warmed.
She didn't want a tainted man!
Holly Sinclair fought back the searing pain in her heart and stubbornly straightened her spine.
She turned and walked away.
A look of resolve slowly surfaced in her tear-filled eyes—
Divorce!
She was going to get a divorce!
...
「Ten o'clock at night.」
When Tristan Sterling returned home, he found the entire villa plunged into darkness.
'Holly Sinclair isn't home?'
'Or is she already asleep?'
'Impossible!'
'In their two years of marriage, she never turned the lights off as long as he wasn't home. She would certainly never go to sleep before he returned.'
Staring into the pitch-black house, Tristan Sterling felt a flicker of strangeness, an inexplicable sense of unease.
He went inside and flipped on the lights.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
There, sitting silently on the sofa, was Holly Sinclair. She was like a lifeless puppet, her gaze vacant, her face devoid of expression.
He had no idea what she was thinking.
Tristan Sterling frowned.
He walked toward her and was just about to speak when she beat him to it.
"Tristan Sterling..."
Her gaze was lowered, fixed on the wedding ring on her finger. Her voice, a mere whisper, sounded distant and ethereal.
He raised an eyebrow. "What did you just call me?"
'She had never used his full name before. It had always been 'Tristan'—first respectfully, then intimately after they married. When she was teasing him or asking for something, it would be 'Hubby'...'
Holly Sinclair slowly lifted her head. Her reddened eyes locked onto the man before her as she squeezed out the words with difficulty—
"Let's get a divorce."