Marrying Nathan Hawthorne While Pregnant

2

I've been hiding in my room, clutching Lola's toys. I haven't slept in two days and two nights.

I don't dare close my eyes.

Whenever I close my eyes, I see Lola's face.

She'd call me "Mommy" in her sweet, childish voice. When I was sad, she'd lift her little hands and stroke my face over and over.

She'd hide in my arms and try to cheer me up.

She'd give me the sweetest part of the watermelon to eat first.

When she knew I was scared of the thunder during a storm, she'd drag her stuffed bunny onto my bed to sleep with me.

At preschool, all the other kids had their dads with them for sports day.

Nathan Hawthorne never showed up, not even once.

The other kids would chase after her, taunting, "Lola's a kid her daddy doesn't want! Nobody wants her!"

Lola would cry her eyes out, just sobbing miserably.

She'd hide somewhere dark, and when she had cried herself out, she'd greet me with a smile.

She'd wrap her little arms around my neck and nuzzle against me.

She'd say, "Mommy, you work so hard."

But she never once asked me why her dad didn't come for her.

My sweet Lola is gone now.

She'll never be a part of my life again.

The only light in my life has vanished.

It feels like my heart has been ripped open. Every breath I take is painful.

After the fire that day, I asked Nathan Hawthorne for a divorce.

He shot me a glare and barked, "Nonsense."

He dragged me home, called my parents, and then disappeared.

Heh. I know he must have gone to be with Lena Thorne and her daughter.

Before, I might have been hurt. But now...

I looked down at the scar on my wrist.

I did it to myself the day Lola died.

It hurt a lot. I bled so much, but I didn't die.

How ridiculous. A wound heals and leaves a scar.

My heart has been hurt by Nathan Hawthorne so many times that it's already covered in a thick layer of scars. It can't even feel pain anymore.

The light in the dim room was switched on.

It was blinding. I buried my face in my knees, not wanting to face whoever had come in.

"Genevieve Sinclair, have you made enough of a scene?"

Nathan Hawthorne gripped my wrist tightly. My limbs were completely limp, and he easily dragged me up from the floor.

"Heh, not eating or drinking for two days... Genevieve Sinclair, if you want to die, don't do it in my house."

I tilted my head to look at Nathan Hawthorne.

His face was ashen, his gaze ferocious, as if he wanted to flay me alive.

'I just don't understand. If he hates me this much, why won't he let me go?'

"Nathan Hawthorne, let's get a divorce."

I asked for a divorce again. 'I truly wish Nathan Hawthorne would just let me go.'

He squeezed my wrist, his grip so tight it was agonizing. His face darkened as he let out a cold snort.

"You want me to let you go? Dream on."

With that, he dragged me out and threw me onto the sofa.

I was just like Lola's little stuffed bunny, carelessly tossed into a corner.

Nathan Hawthorne didn't even want to look at me.

The elders of the family gathered around me, all starting to talk at once.

"Genevieve, have something to eat. You haven't eaten in days. You've gotten so much thinner."

Mrs. Hawthorne held a bowl of congee to my lips. When I smelled the fishy scent of the slices inside, I turned my head away.