Four Loveless Years, One Unforgettable Goodbye

Willa folded her arms, her voice dripping with disdain. "It seems even Cody knows about your little romance with Miss Wall. How do you plan to explain that? If you've got the guts to admit you cheated, I might even applaud you for your honesty."

Bryan's brows drew together as he shot back, "I didn't cheat."

Willa met his gaze coolly. "I know what I saw, Mr. Scott. From the moment you lit those fireworks for her and had your mother fussing over her, our marriage was finished."

Bryan arched a brow, voice dipping low. "Then tell me why your face is turning red. Grandpa mentioned he wanted a great-grandchild—what's your plan?"

His rough fingertips grazed her lips, the contact igniting a sudden desire within him

Without so much as a twitch, she kept her features locked in perfect stillness. "You won't even have kids with me, but we're still pretending this bullshit matters? Should I find another man to make that happen?"

His expression chilled like frost cutting through the air.

He hissed, "If you dare find another man, I'll tear the Fletcher family apart piece by piece."

A stabbing ache shot through Willa's chest. "Four years, Bryan. We've only shared a bed once. Even if Cody's desperate for a great-grandchild, I can't pull one out of thin air."

She knew that even if she told him about the pregnancy, he would dismiss it. And since she'd already decided on divorce, the abortion was only a matter of time.

Bryan's gaze drifted over her delicate face, his eyes narrowing. "So what you mean is, I haven't fucked you enough? Then maybe it's time I fix that."

He leaned in, his breath warm and sharp as he tried to claim her lips.

Her lashes trembled before she drove her heel into his foot. "If you're so desperate, go find Caylee. Whatever we had is already dead—you've got no right to touch me."

Pain shot up his leg, tightening every nerve in his body.

The tension in the air thickened as Bryan furrowed his brows.

Without warning, he seized her wrist and yanked her against his chest, forcing her back into his hold. His lips crashed down on hers, fierce and unrelenting, prying her mouth open as though to claim every ounce of defiance she had left.

Willa's knees nearly buckled, her body turning pliant under his grasp, sustained only by the firm pressure of his hand at her waist.

His breath came rough and uneven; his mouth consumed hers with bruising hunger, leaving her gasping for air as his other hand traced a reckless path along her trembling frame.

The room thickened with heat and tension—his ragged breathing tangled with her stifled sobs.

Then, the fragile stillness shattered when a sharp knock split the air. Bryan froze mid-motion, his fingers still caught in the fabric of her dress.

"Mr. Scott, your phone's been ringing—it's Miss Wall," a servant said, her voice slicing through the charged air.

The sound jolted Bryan back to himself. The heat in his gaze hardened to ice as he shoved Willa aside and strode to the door.

When he pulled it open, the servant froze, her cheeks flushing at the sight before her—Bryan's shirt askew, Willa's face scarlet as she fumbled to smooth her dress.

Bryan grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. Caylee's voice came through in soft, broken sobs.

"Bryan… my stomach hurts. Could you come to the hospital?"

The moment she finished speaking, the line went dead without warning.

The last trace of desire drained from Bryan's eyes. He turned toward Willa, who sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her expression unreadable, a chill emanating from her like frost.

An uneasy irritation crawled up his chest. "I'm heading out. If Grandpa asks, tell him I went to the office."

Her quiet nod came without protest. She had long accepted that his heart belonged elsewhere. Whatever secret tryst awaited him beyond their walls no longer concerned her.

The part of her that once acted on love had finally gone still.

…

At the hospital, Caylee gripped the sleeve of Bryan's coat with trembling fingers. "I'm sorry, Bryan. I shouldn't have called, but the nausea was awful, and I almost fell in the shower. I panicked… Could you stay a while?"

Her every gesture carried practiced fragility—the faint quiver in her lashes, the tremor in her voice, and the way she leaned just enough to invite his sympathy.

Bryan glanced down at his phone, finding the screen blank—no new messages, no missed calls.

"Get some rest," he said evenly, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. "Don't think too much." He sat beside her, his presence distant despite his nearness.

Caylee hesitated, teeth worrying her lip before she lifted the edge of the blanket. "Why don't you lie down? I don't mean anything by it—I just don't want you to be uncomfortable sitting there."

"There's no need," he replied curtly. "Once you're asleep, I've got to go. I've got things to handle."

Her forced smile barely held. "Do you have to go? Is it because of Willa?" she murmured.