My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Fake concern?

When Dylan arrived at the ward, he saw Ava standing by the cupboard, rummaging through it. His concern flared instantly, and he rushed to her side.

“Why are you out of the bed? You need to rest.” He held her arm to take her to the bed.

Ava yanked her arm away, her glare sharp and unyielding. “I don’t need your fake concern.”

The word “fake” hit him hard. A scowl twisted across his face. “Do you think I am faking concern for you?”

He had brought her to the hospital, stayed beside her, and even punished that bastard brutally. But she didn’t appreciate him.

“You fainted back there. Remember?” Dylan’s frustration deepened as he spoke. “If I hadn’t been there, you’d still be lying on that cold floor. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”

Ava shot him a mocking grin, the bitterness in her smile impossible to miss. “Oh, how noble of you, but I never asked you to bring me here. You never cared whether I lived or died before. I’ve given up expecting anything from you.”

She squinted at him. “What’s on your mind? What are you doing this time to hurt me and my father?”

The suspicion in Ava’s eyes gnawed at Dylan, unsettling him more than he cared to admit. A wave of doubt began to churn in his mind.

‘Has she figured out my plan?’ he thought.

“Why do you think that I am on something like hurting your father?” Dylan asked, curious and skeptical. He couldn’t afford for her to be suspicious, not now—not when his plan was still in motion.

Ava’s expression turned cold. “You threatened me, Dylan. You forced me to meet Mr. Moore.” Her voice was devoid of sarcasm now, replaced by an edge of steely seriousness. “Then he tried to drug me. His intention was clear. He wanted to ruin me.”

Her words cut like shards of ice. “He dared to lay hands on your wife. Where did he get the nerve to do that? Someone close to you or maybe you yourself might have instructed him to do that, right?”

Ava shot him a burning glare, daring him to reveal the truth that she had already known.

Dylan’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles whitening. He couldn’t let her know Gianna was behind this. “I punished that man for his audacity. How could you even think I’d be involved in something like that?”

Ava’s heart sank in disappointment. She had expected he wouldn’t take action against Gianna, but a small part of her had still hoped for something different. An admission. Even just an acknowledgment of Gianna’s wrongdoings. But no, even if she had been violated today, she knew Dylan wouldn’t lift a finger against the woman he protected.

Tears of frustration, anger, and pain glistened in her eyes. “I almost lost my chastity to sign that damn deal,” she said, a painful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I hope you will stop targeting my father’s company.”

Dylan stood frozen, speechless for a moment. The sight of Ava’s tear-filled eyes, the raw emotion on her face, struck a chord deep within him. For the first time in a long while, his resolve faltered. A wild thought flashed through his mind—what if he gave up on his plan for revenge? What if he took her away from all of this, left the bitterness behind, and lived a peaceful life with her?

The very idea startled him as if it didn’t belong in his mind. His inner voice scolded him harshly, reminding him of Thomas’s cruelty.

‘How could I forget that?’ he muttered to himself.

His demeanor turned colder. “I am not targeting him, okay?” he hissed. “We are still married, and I’ll help him whenever he needs.”

His calculative words made her stomach churn. He had clearly told her in her past life how he had slowly taken everything away from them. That memory, that betrayal, still lingered like a bitter taste in her mouth. She could never forget it.

“I don’t want to be your wife anymore.” There was no trace of hesitation in her tone now. “Let’s end this, Dylan. Let’s stop hurting each other. Divorce me. Marry Gianna. It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Live your life with her. Be happy. And let me have some peace.”

The mention of divorce again lit a spark of anger in Dylan. It burned deep, leaving him restless and agitated.

The thought of separating from Ava twisted something inside him that he hadn’t anticipated. The panic he had felt when she collapsed earlier had shaken him to his core, making him realize just how much she meant to him, despite the hatred he harbored for her father.

He swallowed the growing frustration, forcing himself to remain composed. “The incident has shaken you,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. “You’re hurt. I understand the turmoil you’re going through. You need rest. We can talk about this later. Come on, lie down now.”

He reached out, taking her arm with the intent to guide her back to bed. But Ava jerked her arm away with a force that startled Dylan.

“Enough, Ava,” Dylan growled, his patience waning. “I’m trying to be gentle with you. Don’t push me to be harsh.”

“I’ve grown used to your cold, harsh side, but this sudden display of care is unsettling,” she shot back. “Stop pretending. I’m telling you, Dylan, let’s divorce. Set me free.”

The word “divorce” struck him like a slap, and his frustration exploded. “Don’t mention that again!” he roared, holding up a finger in warning.

“Why not?” Ava pressed on, leveling the glare with him. “Didn’t you say I forced you to marry me? Fine. I admit it. I was wrong.” Her voice broke with emotions. “Let’s end this marriage, shall we?”

Dylan stared at her, the storm of emotions swirling between them. Every word from Ava felt like fuel to the fire simmering within him, threatening to explode. He didn’t want to lose control, to lash out and hurt her more. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain composed.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” he said, his voice eerily calm despite the storm of rage brewing beneath. “Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Get out,” Ava yelled, trembling with a mix of anger and overwhelming emotion.

“What?” Dylan blinked, momentarily taken aback.

“Get out, Dylan!” she screamed, shoving him with all the strength she could muster. “I don’t want to see your face!”

Dylan was speechless at her outburst, his anger reaching the boiling point. Every instinct screamed at him to retaliate, to put her in her place for being rude to him, but he held back. He owed her that much.

“I’m leaving,” he spat, his voice clipped. “But don’t even think about running away from here. If you do, I’ll break your legs.”

With that cold, biting warning, Dylan turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him.