Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 22

Noah saw him and instantly broke down in tears. “Daddy… it hurts… it’s so itchy, it hurts all over…”

Darren felt like he couldn’t breathe, looking at his son in such agony and hearing his heart-wrenching cries.

The family doctor moved quickly, tending to Noah’s injuries. Once Noah had calmed down a little, the doctor turned to Darren, his expression grave. “Mr. Harrington, your son is still very young. He needs his mother’s care. A nanny just can’t give him the same attention Mrs. Harrington could…”

For a moment, Darren stared at him, stunned. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously. “From now on, I don’t want to hear the words ‘Mrs. Harrington’ ever again.”

The doctor immediately fell silent, visibly shaken.

That night, after making sure Noah was settled, Darren returned to his bedroom.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his tall frame unmoving, memories swirling in his mind.

Three years of marriage.

Three hundred ninety-eight times—she’d dragged his drunken self home from a bar, carefully undressing him, wiping him down, so gentle and meticulous—never realizing he’d only been pretending to be that drunk.

Two hundred fifty-seven times—he’d forced her to kneel before Shortie’s memorial, demanding she “atone,” until her knees were bruised so badly she could barely stand for a month. Yet she never fought back or cried.

One hundred twenty-four times—she’d baked treats from Pixel Sweetery for him, burning her hands on the oven trays, quietly hiding her injuries behind her back.

Ninety-six times—for birthdays, holidays, company anniversaries—she’d wrapped herself up as a gift and delivered herself to his bed.

Darren had never dealt with anyone so stubborn.

He’d almost let himself fall for her.

Almost—until the day he’d seen her at Sanctuary Chapel, writing a wish beneath the old oak tree: “I’ve loved you for twelve years. When will you look back at me, even just once?”

Twelve years…

He’d only known her for three.

“Charlotte, you’ve loved someone else all along—why pretend you ever loved me?”

“This is better. I never have to watch your little performances again.”

He pulled a cigarette from the pack, clamped it between his teeth. The familiar taste of tobacco was there, but tonight it burned with a bitter, metallic aftertaste—like heartbreak and anger tangled together.

“You don’t sound well. Are you sure you’re fit to leave?”

Charlotte drew a shaky breath, swallowing the pain. “I had to go to the courthouse today for the divorce. I took 0.2 milligrams of fentanyl to get through it and left early.”

“Divorce?”

Herbert sighed. “So it’s come to this… But that much fentanyl is rough on your stomach. I’ll bring some medicine and meet you at the courthouse.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nelson. I’d appreciate it.”

Moments later, her cab pulled up outside the courthouse.

As she stepped out, a wave of agony tore through her stomach, nearly buckling her knees.

Just then, a Rolls-Royce pulled up at the curb.

She looked up, eyes tightening.

Darren stepped out, long legs unfolding from the car. Xena followed close behind.