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Chapter 160
Chapter 160:
Her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed backward onto the Persian rug, her fingers gripping the edges of the Polaroid so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She didn’t cry. Her tears had dried up the day she stood before Caleb’s gravestone. Instead, her body began to shake with deep, uncontrollable tremors. A suffocating wave of exhaustion and absurdity swallowed her whole.
She had wasted four years of her life paying off a debt of gratitude to the wrong man. This entire marriage — from the very first moment to this one — had been the biggest, most pathetic joke in the world.
Cole stood in the sterile medical suite. The cardiologist had finally stabilized Eleanor’s blood pressure, and the immediate danger had passed — though the heavy monitor continued to beep with a slow, fragile rhythm.
He rubbed his face with both hands, a massive wave of exhaustion settling into his bones.
A nurse approached him. “Mr. Compton, Ms. Beasley has been given a mild sedative for her extreme emotional distress. She is resting in the downstairs guest room p>
𝘜p𝘥𝗮𝘵еs e𝗏е𝗋у 𝘄𝗲ek оn
Cole felt a surge of pure, toxic irritation. He didn’t care about Alycia. He didn’t care about her tears.
His thoughts snapped suddenly to June. He remembered the absolute, freezing emptiness in her eyes when she had looked at him in the driveway. A swift, terrifying panic gripped his chest. He needed to find her.
Cole left the medical suite and moved through the silent hallways of the estate until he reached the East Study. He pushed the heavy oak doors open — and stopped dead in his tracks.
June was sitting on the Persian rug, her shoulders slumped, a single wet tear track staining her pale cheek. She held a small, old photograph in her hands. Around her lay the scattered contents of Eleanor’s wooden box, and the heavy leather photo album rested open on the floor nearby.
Cole’s eyes locked onto it. His massive ego and deep-seated arrogance hijacked his judgment instantly. He saw her crying over an old family album, and he leaped to the worst possible conclusion.
He walked forward, his tall frame casting a dark shadow over her.
“What is this?” Cole sneered, his voice dripping with cruel sarcasm. “Are you trying to use my grandmother’s memories to stage some pathetic pity party? Crying over old photos to remind me of a past that’s dead and gone? It’s a pathetic strategy, June p>
He genuinely believed she was using sentimental objects to manipulate him into guilt.
June slowly lifted her head.
She looked up at him. Her eyes were completely hollow — open graves. There was no anger in them, no sadness, no reflection of Cole whatsoever. She didn’t yell. She didn’t defend herself. She simply stared at him with the calm, unsettling detachment of a scientist examining a dead insect.
