No More Mrs. Forgotten novel Chapter 17

The deafening crashes echoed through the room, terrifying enough to make anyone's heart race. The piercing shriek of shattering glass made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

Expensive wine flooded the floor, pouring out just like Sharon's endless tears.

The sharp, overwhelming scent of alcohol saturated the air, much like the intense, all-consuming love Sharon had always poured into him without an ounce of hesitation.

Watching the two of them escalate to this level, Wanda was frantic. She turned to York, who was sitting perfectly still on the sofa, calmly watching Sharon violently destroy the room.

"Sir... you... you need to stop her! She put so much effort into collecting those bottles, they're incredibly expensive! It's such a waste to smash them all!"

Wanda's heart was aching at the destruction.

But York remained entirely expressionless, his voice eerily calm. "Leave her alone. Let her smash them. You can step down for now."

Wanda felt utterly helpless. Knowing she couldn't stop either of them, she could only plead, "Then... then please, don't yell at her anymore."

With a deeply worried look, she finally retreated.

York sat surrounded by the shattered glass and the heavy scent of alcohol. Perhaps to Sharon, everything she had meticulously arranged in this house was proof of her dedication and love, but to him... it was nothing but a cage.

After a long time, Sharon finally tired herself out, and a dull ache began to build in her lower stomach. She had no choice but to stop.

Breathing heavily, she glared at the remaining bottles on the highest shelves, looking somewhat resentful that she couldn't reach them to finish the job.

Just then, York suddenly stood up and began walking toward her. He didn't say a word, his gaze locked intensely on her face. His expression was dark, his eyes severe and heavy, making it overwhelmingly obvious just how furious he was.

Sharon stared right back at him, refusing to back down. But instinctively, her mind raced.

Was he completely pushed over the edge?

Was he actually going to hit her?

They had never fought before because she had always been the one compromising, begging for his affection, and obeying his every command. Without resistance, there was no fight.

"Alright, stop throwing a tantrum. Put this down before you hurt yourself," he said softly.

Sharon felt a moment of complete disorientation as he slipped the hammer out of her hand and casually tossed it aside. She stared at him in utter confusion, completely baffled by what he was trying to do.

To her shock, he gently unfurled her slightly clenched hand, using his thumb to softly rub her palm, which was rubbed raw and red from gripping the hammer.

Sharon grew even more bewildered, entirely unsure of what this sudden gentleness meant. In that moment, she was filled with defensive caution, yet she couldn't stop a pathetic, uncontrollable sliver of hope from rising in her chest.

And because of that tiny spark of hope, she truly didn't know whether she should hate herself or not.

Why was she so incredibly weak? The moment he showed her the slightest hint of kindness, she...

Maybe because she had genuinely loved him for so many years, cutting ties was never going to be easy.

Tears spilled from Sharon's eyes as she stood there, eyes bloodshot, crying as she looked up at him.