No More Mrs. Forgotten novel Chapter 27

For some pathetic, unfathomable reason, a tiny spark of expectation and wild guessing flared up in Sharon's chest.

It made her feel physically ill.

Because she knew, with absolute certainty, that his answer wouldn't be the one she craved.

Yet this relentless, involuntary hope kept clawing its way back to the surface, making her despise herself.

Then, York delivered his reason, his voice as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "My marriage ends in death, not divorce."

York honestly didn't know why, but he refused to get a divorce.

He had never even entertained the thought.

He couldn't comprehend why Sharon was tearing their lives apart and constantly screaming for a way out.

It made absolutely no sense to him. They were just bringing Emeline home to look after her, and Sharon was going to be the one taking care of her anyway. It wasn't like he was doing it. What exactly was she so paranoid about?

Why did she have to blow everything so wildly out of proportion?

A hollow laugh escaped Sharon's lips. "York, I thought you just didn't care about me. I didn't realize... you actually want me dead."

York's sharp eyebrows pulled together into a deep scowl. "You were the one who practically moved mountains to marry me. You even resorted to drugging me."

Sharon frowned right back. "I've told you a thousand times, I didn't drug you. I have no idea what happened that night. You told me you finally believed me. How can you weaponize that against me again?"

York seemed to force himself back to a state of calm. "Fine. I believe you. But that doesn't rewrite history, does it?"

Sharon finally understood. The realization made her want to burst into hysterical laughter.

His 'history' was simple: they had slept together, they had gotten married, and his missed chance with Emeline was an undeniable tragedy.

The 'why' didn't matter. The blood-soaked reality of their situation wouldn't miraculously stop bleeding just because of good intentions. They were permanently shattered.

So, that was it.

Sharon dropped the argument. "Then what exactly do you—"

Before she could finish, York cut her off. "Can you please just drop this? I'm begging you. Can we just stop?"

Sharon suddenly realized she had absolutely nothing left to say. He was eternally committed to misunderstanding her.

But then again, it made perfect sense. Why would anyone waste time trying to understand a person they felt absolutely nothing for? Even if that person happened to be their wife. It changed nothing.

Before Sharon could find her words, York continued. "Alright, Sharon. You've had your tantrum, and we're almost there. Pull yourself together. We're walking into a highly sensitive situation. Do not embarrass us, and absolutely do not let outsiders witness us fighting."

Sharon smiled a dead, empty smile. From the second this began, he believed she was just acting out, throwing a fit, faking her illness, and hiring her friends to stage a mutiny.

From the very beginning, his only concern was making sure nothing delayed his reunion with Emeline, and ensuring their public image remained pristine.

To him, she was nothing but a prop. A tool strictly meant to play a supporting role in his life. Her feelings, her pain—none of it mattered. In fact, she wasn't supposed to have them at all.

Out of nowhere, Sharon commanded, "Pull over."

York froze, throwing a bewildered look in her direction.

With her nose and eyes flushed bright red, she stared dead ahead and repeated the order. "Pull the car over."