Marrying His Savior, My Husband Cried for Me After

I froze. He had come back. I took a deep breath and turned around. 

“Perfect timing. I need you to sign…”

Before I could finish, his phone buzzed.

Nancy.

I saw her name flash on the screen.

He shot me a reassuring smile as he picked up. But seconds later, his expression turned dark.

Then, out of nowhere—he slapped me.

Hard.

I looked up, stunned.

Even knowing about him and Nancy, I never imagined he’d hit me.

He raised his hand again, but something in him faltered when he saw the tears on my face. He turned, grabbed the porcelain figurines and smashed them against the floor.

Pieces flew everywhere.

Now he shattered it—for her.

“You had Nancy kidnapped?” he shouted. “She’s pregnant, Cassidy. That could’ve killed her and the baby!”

I stared at the shards, my whole body going cold.

That figurine was us. He’d made it by mixing his own rib into the clay. He said it meant we’d always be together.

But now, for Nancy, he smashed it without a second thought—just to threaten me.

Tears slipped down my cheeks and I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs. I couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak.

Aaron’s anger didn’t escalate—instead, it cooled into something far more terrifying.

His eyes were razor-sharp, his gaze like steel as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

He grabbed my chin hard. “Give me her location. I don’t have time for your dramatic play.”

I could hear it in his voice—he wasn’t just furious. He cared about Nancy. Maybe even loved her.

A bitter smile pulled at my lips, my voice hoarse as I whispered, “I didn’t do it.”

My eyes were vacant. I didn’t even know how we’d ended up like this. He used to love me. So deeply. So fiercely. So how could he fall for someone else so easily?

But even though I was telling the truth, Aaron didn’t believe a single word. He shoved me into the corner and his fist slammed into the wall beside me.

“Nancy called me crying. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? She told me everything. Said you sent someone to kidnap her!”

His eyes were as dark as ink and the words that fell from his mouth were sharper than any blade.

“Think about your parents, your family’s company. Are you sure you want to keep silence and let them ruin?”

I stood there like a puppet with a broken string, my body swaying stiffly, incapable of doing anything but slowly shaking my head under his rage.

His expression turned frigid. Aaron grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip and dragged me down the hallway toward the storage room.

I didn’t even have time to react before he threw me inside and slammed the door shut behind me.

Only then did it dawn on me—what he was trying to do.

I lunged toward the door, panic setting in, but it was too late. The heavy door slammed shut in my face with a sickening thud. I collapsed to the floor, trembling uncontrollably. My whole body felt paralyzed.

Aaron knew I suffered from claustrophobia. He knew I’d been kidnapped when I was a child and that tight, dark spaces made me feel like I was dying. But he locked me up anyway—for Nancy.

My hand trembled as I reached out, scratching weakly at the door.

“Let me out, Aaron. Please... let me out!”

But my cries didn’t move him.

For Nancy, he’d tossed aside my well-being like it meant nothing.

His muffled voice came through the door, heavy with judgment, “You’re crossing the line, Cassidy. Now I want you to feel what Nancy felt. Once I find her, I’ll let you out.”

And with that, his footsteps began to fade.

My tears came fast, falling like rain.

I still remember the night I told Aaron about my childhood trauma. He had been heartbroken.

After we got together, he always made sure every room we entered had open doors. The lamp in this house we lived in were never go out. He told me that it symbolized his love for me—always on, never fading.

Now? That promise meant nothing. Just empty words swept away by time.

Three days later, when I was barely conscious, the butler finally let me out.

I stumbled into the hallway, ignoring the doctor he’d arranged for me.

In my hand, I clutched the signed divorce papers and all the documents I’d quietly prepared. I used the last of my strength to finish everything.

The immigration documents would take two weeks to process.

In two weeks, I’d have a new identity and my son would take my name. Aaron and I would never see each other again.

When it was all done, the butler—who’d been searching for me—took me back to the Mackey estate. Only after hiding away every document did my body gave out and I allow myself to collapse into unconsciousness.