Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off, Ex! novel Chapter 23

**Through Unseen Doors We Step Into Untold Worlds Beyond by Sage Hunter Lane**

**Chapter 23**

Clark stood in the hospital corridor, his face a mask of stoic anger as he fixed his gaze on Damon. The tension in the air was palpable, and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned an alarming shade of white. A storm of suppressed rage churned within him, threatening to spill over.

“Uncle, I can’t help but wonder why you keep coming to Nyla’s aid,” Clark’s voice dripped with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “First, it was at the family estate, then against my mother, and now you’re personally driving her to the hospital. Do you honestly see yourself as her protector?”

Damon’s eyebrow arched slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. In an instant, his demeanor shifted; he radiated a powerful, almost dangerous energy. The atmosphere around them seemed to chill, and the air grew heavy, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

“What do you mean by that?” Damon’s voice dropped to a chilling whisper, laced with a commanding authority that demanded respect. “Are you questioning my intentions?”

Clark pressed on, undeterred by the palpable threat. “It’s just odd to me,” he said, his tone growing sharper. “As her husband, I should have been the first to know about her injury. Yet, it was you who stood by her side. How can I not overthink this?”

Damon let out a low, mocking laugh, his eyes glinting with derision. “As her husband? Clark, do you truly believe you deserve that title?”

“What do you mean by that?” Clark’s expression twisted into one of disbelief and anger, his heart racing.

“Every time Nyla finds herself in need, where are you?” Damon’s words cut through the air like a knife. “When the lab exploded today, what were you doing? In meetings? Or perhaps out with your little mistress?”

The accusation struck Clark like a physical blow, rendering him momentarily speechless. A tumult of guilt and anger twisted in his chest, grappling for dominance.

Damon continued, his tone icy and unforgiving. “If you rely on others to inform you of her condition, then perhaps this marriage of yours is better off ending.”

With that final remark, Damon turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Clark standing alone in the corridor, his face ashen and his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He watched Damon’s retreating figure, a mix of fury and shame swirling within him. Deep down, he knew every word Damon had spoken was painfully accurate, which only fueled his anger further.

Taking several deep breaths to regain his composure, Clark finally pushed open the door to Nyla’s hospital room.

Inside, Nyla sat on the bed, her expression unreadable. The doctor had just finished bandaging her wound, and when she caught sight of Clark in the doorway, her face showed no hint of surprise or joy—only an unsettling distance, a chilling indifference that pierced through him.

“Why did you come?” Nyla’s voice was calm, devoid of any emotion, as if they were merely discussing the weather.

Clark approached the bedside, attempting to infuse his words with genuine concern. “How’s the wound? Is it serious?”

“Nothing major. It’ll heal in a few days,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the sterile white sheets, avoiding his eyes. “There’s no need for you to have come here.”

Her dismissal ignited a fire within Clark. How could she downplay her injury as if it were a mere inconvenience? The growing chill in their relationship was suffocating, and he couldn’t accept her coldness any longer.

“No need?” he exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch, frustration evident. “You’re my wife! Shouldn’t I be here when you’re hurt?”

Finally, Nyla lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes devoid of warmth. “Clark, do we really need to keep pretending? Is this facade necessary?”

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