Chapter 8 Please Do Not Divorce Me

• There was an immense ache in his chest as the possibility of her death crossed his mind. There was nothing he could do to calm himself.
• Ruth, you can't die now. We haven't settled our debts yet. I can't let you go like this!
• He roared in frustration as he stared at the pitch darkness beyond his window.
• In the end, it turned out that Ruth did not die after all. Margaret announced excitedly over the phone, “Mr. Lane, Mrs. Lane has come back!”
• Aiden gripped the steering wheel, made a U-turn in an instant. He beelined for the mansion.
• Ruth was standing in the hallway of the mansion. Dressed in a sleeping gown with her messy hair let down, she looked like a child and a madwoman at the same time.
• “Honey, you're home.”
• She rushed into his arms as if nothing had happened. In fact, she looked as if she had no idea how disappearance had affected him.
• Aiden just stared at her coldly. He towered over her like a volcano that was about to erupt at any moment.
• Ruth was already used to his indifference, so she didn't care much.
• She skipped over to the dining table and retrieved a plate of ravioli for him. She coaxed, “I have your favorite food right here. They're still hot out of the pan. I went to buy them myself or it would've been sold out if I had gone any later. Try some while they're hot!”
• “Is this what you meant by running out of time?”
• Aiden did not even look at the ravioli that Ruth had prepared.
• “Of course. This shop is famous for its fresh pasta. He only sells a limited amount daily, so they sell out really quickly! Come on, have a taste!”
• Ruth lifted her head and looked earnestly at Aiden.
• He was everything to her and he was also the only reason she wanted to stay alive.
• Aiden was overcome with a sense of disgust. He swept the steaming plate of ravioli roughly from her hands. “Ruth, are you sick in the head?”
• Ruth was frozen in shock for a moment. She bent down, began sweeping the ravioli and the broken shards together as she mumbled, “This ravioli is delicious. Absolutely delicious.”
• The hot ravioli burned her fingers. She had also cut herself on the sharp edges of the shards. She seemed utterly numb even when blood began to trickle down her fingers.
• Margaret was heartbroken as she watched the scene before her. “Mrs. Lane, I'll clean this up. You've cut yourself.”
• “It's alright. I'll clean it up. It's no big deal.”
• Ruth lowered her head to avoid their gaze. Tears started rolling down her face.
• Unfortunately, her tears had invoked Aiden's ire.
• This damn woman! Why is she acting so pitifully?
• In the next second, he grabbed Ruth by the wrist and dragged her toward the bedroom upstairs as he demanded, “Come with me!”
• He picked her up and tossed her on the bed as if she weighed nothing more than a small kitten.
• He loomed over her in the bed. He had torn her clothes off in an instant. Pawing at her body, he nipped at the porcelain skin on her shoulder. “Ruth, what are you playing at? Answer me!” His harsh demands rang out right beside her ear.
• Ruth lay there like a lifeless rag doll. Her body ached from his rough maneuvers. Her fingertips were still bleeding, and the blood seeped through his white shirt, staining it a dark, ruby red color.
• He was behaving like a savage beast toward her.
• Despite her fear, she lay there obediently, allowing him to have his way. Tears streamed down her face as she choked out, “I'm not playing at anything. There's nothing I can do anyway. I just don't want to divorce you and I want you to love me again. That's all I ask.”