She Said She Was Frigid — I Left, She Regretted

Hearing this, I could only find it laughable.

It seemed Claire Morgan had forgotten—I came from the exact same kind of background.

But just as I was about to speak, I caught sight of a condom packet half-slipped out of her coat pocket.

In that moment, I completely lost any interest in arguing with her.

Seeing me silent, Claire grew impatient.

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll agree to your proposal this time and we’ll get married this year. Satisfied now?!”

A perfect two-birds-one-stone scheme.

I didn’t look at her again. I shoved past her and headed for the door.

From behind me, Claire shouted, demanding to know where I was going.

I let out a cold laugh, not breaking my stride.

“Weren’t you going to find your precious little brother? What’s wrong—suddenly not in a hurry?”

Good.

There was something I needed to return to Margaret Morgan personally…

As soon as I pulled open the passenger door, Claire tossed her phone into my lap.

Before I could ask, she spoke.

“I’ll drive—you watch Ryan’s location.”

I glanced down at her phone screen.

It was the couples’ tracking app I had begged her to use with me for ages, but she had always refused.

After I was kidnapped, she’d quickly started using it with Ryan instead.

“Don’t get the wrong idea—Ryan’s alone overseas…”

Before she could finish, I cut her off. “He’s about to be brought back to the Morgan estate. Just drive.”

We barely managed to intercept the Morgan family’s car when Claire rushed out.

Seeing her, the men didn’t dare act recklessly, and could only watch as she pulled Ryan out of the vehicle.

But before they could get back in, a taxi spun out of control and came straight at us.

Perhaps it was out of gratitude for the Morgan family’s past kindness, or maybe just because I had gotten used to protecting Claire over the years—but I grabbed her, trying to drag her to safety.

Unexpectedly, she jerked free and threw herself toward Ryan instead.

The next second, someone gave me a vicious shove.

Then came the blinding pain and Ryan Morgan’s triumphant smile—

the last thing I saw before losing consciousness.

When I awoke, Claire was nowhere to be found—only Margaret Morgan sat by my bedside.

Seeing me open my eyes, she quickly called the doctor over.

The hospital room door opened and closed as a steady stream of chatter and envy drifted in from the hall.

“Oh my God, the couple on the eighth floor is so in love! That guy’s wife treats him way too well.”

“Right? The guy just has a little scratch, and Mrs. Morgan’s been neglecting the company, feeding him and caring for him day and night.”

“Lucky bastard… why can’t I find a wife like that?”

My expression didn’t change, but Margaret could no longer sit still.

She strode out, her usual poise gone, and snapped at the onlookers:

“That man on the eighth floor is just a homewrecker! What, you all want to be someone else’s mistress too?!”

“Let it go, Mrs. Morgan…”

After all, if we were being honest, I might now be the one considered the “other man.”

At that, Margaret quickly returned to my bedside.

“Adrian, Claire does care about you—she’s just lost her head for the moment…”

Eight years together, even if it had been an act, I knew I had made my way into Claire’s heart.

But compared to Ryan Morgan, I hardly mattered.

And I didn’t want to be with someone who hadn’t cleared a space in her heart for me.

Before I could respond, Claire’s call came through.

“Adrian Foster! If you’re awake, get over here and apologize to Ryan right now—or don’t blame me if I break up with you!”