Chapter 3

“Ms. Sinclair, your husband, Mr. Julian Thorne, has not responded to the relevant requests in this lawsuit. We connected with him on the phone, but there was no response, so it will be treated as tacit agreement to the divorce petition.”

“Therefore, your lawsuit has been processed by this court. You have thirty days from the date of your application to withdraw it. If you do not withdraw, the marriage relationship between you two will be terminated.”

The court operator’s voice was completely flat. Perhaps this was just one of countless simple lawsuits they handled every day.

I took a deep breath, and even with trembling hands, I replied, “Understood.”

I took a cab home and quietly surveyed everything.

Then I started packing Julian’s things. I wasn’t planning to move out; I intended to clear out everything related to him.

“Mrs. Thorne, you have a card.”

A knock on the door. It was the delivery person’s voice. He only handed me an envelope.

“I’m not Mrs. Thorne anymore.”

I took the card and suddenly spoke. The delivery person paused, then smiled awkwardly.

I opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten card. The handwriting was Julian’s.

I opened it, and Julian’s voice came out.

“I miss you, I like you, I love you…”

Before I could react, a hand snatched the card from my grasp.

I stumbled, almost falling, and looked up to see a dark-faced Julian.

"Don't mess with my things."

My phone screen lit up. It was his message.

Before I could reply, Julian had already turned and gone downstairs.

“Julian Thorne! You’re going too far!”

I was furious, and I ran downstairs after Julian, stomping my feet.

“I didn’t go through your things! How dare you disrespect me!”

“I don’t care what your relationship with your so-called Willow is, but you have no right to insult or humiliate me!”

A piercing screech filled the air—the sound of tires skidding from an emergency brake.

I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my side. Before I could even see clearly, a car slammed into me, sending me flying.

With a loud thud, I hit the ground hard.

I struggled to get up, but then a face with elaborate makeup and sunglasses zoomed into view.

Her red high heels rolled over my right palm.

“Ah—!”

A strangled scream tore from my throat.

Before my vision blurred completely, I saw Julian running from behind, looking frantic.

His expression was utterly different from his usual cold, aloof demeanor.

He nervously took Willow's hand, examining it carefully, then let out a huge sigh of relief.

Until I lost consciousness, he hadn't even given me a second glance.

“Ms. Sinclair, your SVIP privileges at Thorne Hospital have been revoked. I’m afraid we’ll have to move you to a private room.”

“My apologies, just confirmed, there are no private rooms available either. You may have to wait for surgery in the hallway.”

“Also, your right hand… the injury to your palm is very severe… you need immediate surgery, otherwise… you might not be able to perform delicate movements in the future.”

Even in my dazed state, those words jolted me awake.

“Ju… Julian… where is he…?”

“Get… my phone…”

I urgently tried to get up to find my phone and contact Julian.

"The number you have dialed is currently switched off."

A whimpering cry escaped my throat.

I slammed the phone down with a loud bang, and a sharp, throbbing pain in my right hand gnawed at my nerves.

“Ms. Sinclair, we found Mr. Thorne. He’s… with Dr. Willow Evans in the psychological counseling room. He said Dr. Evans was startled, and Mr. Thorne instructed that no one should disturb them…”

I covered my eyes with my left hand, blood and tears mixing and soaking my sleeve.

“I hate you… I hate you…”

“I hate you so much! Julian Thorne!”