The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 568

568 Fraying Tempers

He made his way toward the ward, his mind consumed with worry—not about Quinn this time, but about Julius. Today, Julius had endured more than just a minor shock; he appeared like a live wire, exposed and crackling with tension.

Outside the hospital, Laura stepped into the cool air, raising her arm to hail a cab. Suddenly, a hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly and pulling her back into the shadow cast by a nearby column.

She blinked, surprised, and looked up at the man holding her. “Weston?” The name slipped from her lips, barely more than a whisper, tinged with disbelief.

Weston’s eyes flicked to the reddish bruise marking her throat. “I heard about what happened at your company,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with concern. “Your neck—”

Laura quickly shook her head. “It’s just a scratch. I’ve already treated it myself. I’m fine.” She twisted her wrist, attempting to pull free from his grasp.

But Weston’s hold didn’t loosen. Instead, his other hand reached out, as if to gently touch the tender skin.

Startled, Laura jerked backward. “Weston, let go!” she demanded, her voice sharp.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “So you’ll let Gavin tend to it, let him apply ointment, but I can’t even touch you?” His tone was bitter, edged with hurt.

“You saw that?” Her surprise was evident, eyes widening.

“I did,” he admitted softly.

From the moment his assistant had brought him the news, Weston had driven straight to the hospital, urgency propelling him forward.

Throughout the drive, he had called Laura repeatedly, his thumb sore from tapping her number, but each time, he was met with silence.

When he finally stormed through the hospital doors, the first sight to greet him was Gavin, bent close to Laura, carefully smoothing ointment over the delicate bruise. The closeness between them was palpable; Weston could almost feel the warmth radiating from their connection. Laura, usually sparring with him in sharp retorts and guarded glances, sat completely still, lips parted slightly in quiet trust.

That image burned into his mind, igniting a raw, unsteady panic deep within him—as if she might slip away from his orbit at any moment, disappearing into another man’s world.

“Why didn’t you answer?” he burst out, voice rough and strained. “Has it come to this already? Does seeing my name on your screen disgust you so much that you’d rather let it ring endlessly?”

“My phone?” Laura frowned, then her expression softened as she remembered. “It’s still on my desk at work. I left in such a hurry, I didn’t even think to bring it.”

Quinn had been injured, and Laura had dashed after the medics without a second thought, leaving her phone forgotten among scattered project files.

Weston felt a thin thread of relief unwind inside him, though it barely eased the storm raging beneath.

“What happened to your neck? Did someone strangle you?” His words tumbled out, thick with alarm.

“Even if I did, what difference would it make?” she shot back, eyes flashing.

“Is he better than me? More handsome, stronger? Or does he love you more than I ever could? What is it, Laura?” Weston demanded, words spilling out in a desperate rush.

“At least he doesn’t treat love like a game,” she said firmly. “Gavin is honest and accountable. He wouldn’t toy with someone’s heart just for the thrill.”

Color drained from Weston’s face in an instant. The reckless mistakes of his youth rose like ghosts he could no longer escape, each one branding him with a stain he knew he’d carry forever.

“No matter how fiercely I love you, no matter how hard I try to fix the past, you’ll never care for me again, will you?” he whispered, bitterness thick on his tongue.

“Yes,” Laura met his eyes steadily, refusing to look away. “Feelings don’t always come back, Weston. I took a chance on your love once. I’m not willing to risk my heart a second time.”

“So you think choosing Gavin is a sure bet? His family dances to the Whitethorns’ tune. How decent can he really be? Can you truly rely on his love?” Weston challenged.

“No matter whose name I whisper tomorrow,” Laura said, voice steady but burning with determination, “I’m still placing my heart on the line. If I care for him—and only if it’s real—I’ll stake everything on that feeling. And if the cards fall against me again, I’ll accept the loss without complaint, because the gamble itself proves my love was genuine.”

Weston’s voice broke, low and ragged. “Then why won’t you take one last chance on me?”