From Neglected Wife to CEO’s Obsession novel Chapter 28

The taste of blood coated my mouth, thick and metallic. It was so salty and sticky that it made my stomach twist even harder, waves of nausea rolling through me.

Suddenly, I just lost it and threw up.

Right there in the tight backseat, all over myself, all over Remy, and even on his injured wrist.

I hadn’t eaten much for dinner, so after hours of sitting in my stomach, there wasn’t much left to come up. Most of it was just bitter, green bile.

The horrible mix of food scraps and blood filled the tiny car, and with barely any air circulating, it felt like I was suffocating.

“Stop the car. Please, just stop!” I shouted, desperate for a way out.

Remy knocked on the divider. The driver obeyed and slowly pulled over to the side of the road.

I shoved the door open and stumbled out, grabbing onto a lamppost for support. My chest heaved as I doubled over and vomited again, everything inside me coming up until there was nothing left but dry heaving.

When it was finally over, I sank to the ground, hugging the pole, my body shaking and tears sliding down my face in silence.

Avery, look at you. Completely pathetic.

Remy shrugged off his dirty jacket, and the driver rinsed the mess off his wrist with a bottle of water. Remy lit a cigarette and leaned against the guardrail, dragging hard, one after another.

When the first was done, he lit a second.

The smoke wrapped around him, hiding his expression. His left hand hung at his side, clenched so tight I could see the veins bulging.

“Avery, just now, I...” His voice was rough and tired, like something broken scraping together. “I don’t know how to make you believe me. Just think of it as me saying goodbye to something unfinished. That’s all, okay?”

He sounded defeated. “I swear, there’ll never be anything between me and her again. You can watch me if you want, alright? Just please, go see a doctor. If you wait too long, you’ll scar. Don’t do this to yourself, okay?”

“Alright.”

I rinsed out my mouth with water the driver handed me. Remy called his assistant, Mike, and told him to come pick us up right away.

We waited on the overpass, the late autumn wind biting through my clothes. Remy stood by the railing in just a white shirt, his hair whipped wild by the wind. He was still handsome, but there was something stubborn and strange in his face now—something I didn’t recognize.

After about twenty minutes, Mike finally arrived.

Remy opened the back door, waiting for me to get in.

I just went straight for the front passenger seat. Remy clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his anger, and got in behind me without a word.

The car sped through the silent city. Shadows from the streetlights and trees flashed across the windows. No one said a thing. The only sound was our breathing—three people, lost in our own thoughts, filling the car with tension and regret.