I Was His Wife, Then His Widow, Then No One's But My Own novel Chapter 486

With his revenge complete, Frederick Fletcher was ready to leave it all behind.

Standing at the entrance of the departure hall at Metropolitan International Airport, he glanced down at the boarding pass in his hand, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

He had no desire to stay in the country any longer. The Fletcher Group had collapsed, and Finnegan had been hauled away by the authorities. He had nothing left to give—no energy left to hate, and absolutely no intention of keeping any ties to his past.

The terminal was packed. As he weaved his way through the bustling crowd, a sharp, familiar voice suddenly sliced through the noise.

"Frederick!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Turning around slowly, he saw Clara Sinclair sprinting toward him, completely out of breath.

Amidst the endless sea of travelers passing by, the rest of the world faded away as their eyes locked.

Frederick stared at her, his throat tight as he swallowed hard. "Why are you here?"

Clara stormed over, her expression furious. "You're trying to run away again, you bastard. You slept with me and bolted, and now that your little revenge mission is over, you're just going to dust off your hands and disappear? What the hell do you take me for?"

Frederick wanted to tell her that wasn't what he meant, but the words completely failed him. He finally managed to summon all his strength to force out her name.

"Clara."

He pressed his lips together in a grim line. "I'm not someone who can give you stability. I've done a lot of terrible things, and none of them were clean. You deserve a better man. I can't stay."

Clara stared at him, letting out a sudden, humorless laugh as her gaze turned icy.

"To hell with 'deserving a better man'."

Tears pooled in her eyes. "The man I choose is the best man. I've traced the scars on your back. I've seen the gashes on your arms. I know exactly who you are, Frederick—better than you know yourself. You think your hands are dirty, but during those two years you were by my side, you refused to leave my bed even when my fever spiked to a hundred and two. Tell me, would someone rotten to the core do something like that?"

Frederick's breathing hitched. He looked down at his hand, enveloped in her tight grip, and felt the comforting warmth of her palm seeping into his skin. His heart hammered against his ribs.

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