Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off, Ex! novel Chapter 25

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

Nyla stood at the threshold of her apartment, her gaze fixed on the monitor displaying Clark’s weary figure. Thoughts of her impending divorce swirled in her mind, a tempest of emotions battling for dominance. Yet, despite the turmoil, she pressed the button to release the door lock, allowing him entry.

“Come in,” she said, her voice smooth and unruffled, betraying none of the inner conflict roiling within her.

As Clark stepped inside, he was burdened with thermal containers, each one a vessel of carefully prepared dishes. He scrutinized Nyla’s expression, searching for any hint of warmth or affection. He meticulously arranged the meal on the dining table, selecting all the dishes he knew she relished.

“How’s your wound? Does it still hurt?” he ventured, striving to pierce the heavy silence that engulfed them.

“It’s fine,” Nyla replied curtly, her tone clipped as she settled into her seat at the table.

Throughout the meal, Clark made several attempts to ignite a conversation, each effort thwarted by Nyla’s icy demeanor. After a moment of gathering his resolve, he finally said, “Next week is your birthday.”

For a fleeting moment, Nyla’s hand, which had been deftly maneuvering the chopsticks, hesitated. But just as quickly, she resumed her eating, maintaining an air of indifference.

“What gift would you like? Jewelry? Or that limited edition watch you’ve always wanted?” Clark’s voice bore a mixture of hope and desperation. “Or we could travel. Haven’t you always dreamed of going to the Maldives?”

The mere mention of “Maldives” sent a chill through Nyla, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Memories flooded her mind—Clark’s solemn promises, the year she had spent waiting in vain for that trip, only for it to be cruelly dashed by a phone call from Jordyn.

“I don’t want anything,” she stated coldly, placing her chopsticks down with finality, her appetite extinguished.

Clark’s heart sank as he observed the distance in her eyes. A wave of defeat washed over him; he sensed he had crossed a line, but he was at a loss as to how to mend the rift.

After the meal, Clark took it upon himself to clear the table, the clatter of dishes echoing in the silence. He then settled into the living room, fixing Nyla with a serious gaze.

“Nyla, we need to have an honest conversation,” he said, his voice tinged with fatigue and desperation. “I know I’ve hurt you deeply, and I’m ready to accept any consequences for my actions. But… how long will you continue to punish me?”

Nyla cast her eyes downward, the weight of his question hanging in the air. She remained silent for a long moment, her voice finally emerging soft yet sharp, each word piercing Clark’s heart like a dagger: “I told you, I don’t know. Maybe when I stop loving you, I won’t care about this anymore.”

Those words struck Clark like a blow, sending him spiraling into an emotional abyss. He would rather endure her hatred for eternity than face the reality of her indifference. Hatred, at least, signified she still felt something for him.

“Nyla, you can’t treat me like this…” His voice quavered, desperation creeping in. “There’s still hope for us, isn’t there?”

Nyla raised her gaze, her eyes devoid of warmth or compassion: “Clark, you single-handedly destroyed everything we had. Now you stand here, asking me for hope?”

An oppressive silence settled over the room, thick and suffocating. Clark wanted to respond, to plead his case, but the words eluded him, leaving him voiceless.

Just then, a ringtone shattered the stillness, causing both of them to jump. Nyla glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Genevieve.

“Genevieve? What’s the matter calling so late?” she answered, her tone shifting to one of curiosity.

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