As Quennel carried her away, Hannah’s head rested on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on Lionel, who hadn’t moved.
He had heard Sandra tried to kill herself, had crashed his car racing to her side in a storm, and was now waiting for her outside the operating room after a cursory patch-up. The moment he saw Hannah, he had started blaming her, attacking her.
But she hadn’t done anything. Why… why did he keep doing this to her?
Hannah closed her eyes in despair, the tears soaking Quennel’s sleeve. She bit her lip, trying to stifle her sobs.
Quennel could feel her body shaking. “Hannah, don’t cry,” he murmured, his own heart aching. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll protect you. Don’t cry. Don’t let him ruin your health.”
Hannah clutched his shirt, gasping for air, unable to speak.
The doctor determined it was nothing serious, just a vasovagal response brought on by extreme stress. But he warned that if she experienced such intense emotional swings again, she could be at risk for a stroke or an aneurysm.
At Quennel’s insistence, the doctor admitted her for observation.
“Quennel, this is unnecessary. It’s too much,” Hannah said from the hospital bed, an IV line in her hand.
“Too much? Did you not hear the doctor? If you weren’t so young and healthy, you could have fainted just now.” Quennel gently pushed her back down as she tried to sit up. “A lot has happened today. For now, you just need to rest. I’ll be right here. Just call out if you need anything.”
He tucked the blanket around her and dimmed the main lights, leaving only a small, warm lamp on. “Are you thirsty? I can have someone bring water.”
Hannah shook her head. Just as she was about to speak, the door opened. They both turned to look.
Quennel’s face was a dark mask of fury. He tightened his grip and dragged Lionel out of the room, slamming the door behind them.
Hearing the door close, Hannah sat up. She saw that it hadn’t latched properly and, after a moment’s hesitation, she got out of bed, pulling the IV stand with her, and walked to the door.
“What do you want?” Quennel had shoved Lionel away from the door and was now blocking it. “What are you even doing here? Did you come to see how much damage you’ve done?”
Lionel had no answer.
“Hannah is my wife. I don’t need a reason to see her. What I want to know is why she’s with you!”
Quennel let out a cold laugh. “You have the nerve to ask me that? The last time she stayed at my place, it was because of you. This time, it’s the same story. Lionel, it’s fine if you don’t love her, but don’t you dare trample on her feelings. If it’s over, then stop tormenting her. Just wait to sign the papers.”

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