He Got Engaged to His First Love On the Day I Died-Chapter 12: Just Bear With It

The back door of the car opened, and a man’s gleaming leather shoe emerged.

Natalie Morgan had a bad feeling.

She turned to leave.

After Theodore Grant got out of the car, he didn’t rush after her. Instead, he lowered his head, lit a cigarette, and took a drag.

"It seems you’re quite pleased with Sean Lane’s arrangements."

Sean Lane?

Hearing the name that had vanished from her world for two years, Natalie was momentarily dazed.

Holding a slender cigarette between his fingers, the man walked over to her and seized her by the waist. "Is this from delivering food? Did it make your sweetheart’s heart ache for you?"

"Theodore Grant, I don’t understand what you’re talking about."

He let out a soft, contemptuous laugh as he looked her over. "Natalie Morgan, you’re really something else. We’re not even divorced, and you’ve already lined up two replacements."

"I haven’t."

She knew Theodore Grant was here to cause trouble.

But she wouldn’t stand for such baseless accusations.

He tossed aside the barely-smoked cigarette, grabbed her wrist, and started pulling her toward the car. "Come home with me."

"I’m not going back."

"Natalie Morgan, if you defy me again, I’ll make sure you don’t see Thomas Morgan tomorrow."

Her family was Natalie’s Achilles’ heel.

Theodore Grant knew exactly how to hit her where it hurt.

She fell silent.

The car pulled into the villa’s driveway.

Natalie obediently followed Theodore Grant into the house.

The man went upstairs, leaving her standing woodenly at the bottom of the staircase.

"What are you standing there like a statue for?"

’He had brought her back for one reason and one reason only—that business between a man and a woman.’

’Theodore Grant was always forceful. Wanda Lynch was in poor health, and he felt sorry for her, so he could only vent his frustrations on me.’

Natalie lifted her gaze, her eyes devoid of any warmth. "I don’t want to."

This was the first time she had ever refused him when it came to this.

Enraged, the man stormed down the stairs in just a few strides. He seized her arm, giving her no chance to refuse, and threw her onto the sofa.

"Here works, too."

He roughly tore off his tie. As he reached for her buttons, she grabbed his hand.

"Theodore Grant, don’t do this."

The man let out an infuriated laugh, his eyes turning cold as ice as he stared at her like a predator. "What’s this? Decided to start saving yourself for another man?"

"I haven’t."

He seized her wrists, pinned them above her head, and held her down. "Here, or upstairs. You choose."

Natalie was conservative by nature.

She wasn’t reckless like Theodore, who could do it whenever and wherever he pleased.

She had her dignity.

"Up... upstairs," she said, her voice trembling with despair.

The moment they entered the bedroom, the man pushed her down.

She struggled, her gaze filled with resentment.

The man pinched her chin, his voice dripping with mockery. "Felix Finch wasn’t enough, so now you’ve added Sean Lane to the mix. Natalie Morgan, have I been underestimating you? Tell me, which one do you love?"

"I don’t love either of them! Theodore Grant, if you’re going to do it, then just do it! Why waste your breath on all this nonsense?"

She closed her eyes.

She turned her head away, unwilling to look at his taunting expression.

The man forced her to look at him. "You accepted the job Sean Lane arranged for you, so you must love him, right?"

"I don’t love him." Natalie didn’t understand why he kept bringing up Sean Lane. "And he didn’t arrange my job."

"Natalie Morgan, don’t play dumb with me. You think you could land a job with a monthly salary of twenty thousand with your meager talents? Who do you think you are? A professor at the Academy of Fine Arts?"

It was true that the owner of the art studio was paying her a high salary.

But the other instructors at the studio earned even more than she did.

"That just proves I’m worth the money."

"Then let me see just how much you’re worth."

He was familiar with every inch of her.

In their two years of marriage, their intimate moments had been few and far between, but every time had left him utterly intoxicated.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t love her, but he lusted after her body.

The woman’s eyes were squeezed shut, her face a mask of agony.

The pain was so intense that her entire body curled into a ball.

Theodore Grant felt a sudden clench in his chest, his pupils constricting. "Are you a fucking mute? Can’t you say it hurts?"

Theodore Grant quickly grabbed some clothes, picked up Natalie, and ran downstairs. Her body was scorching hot, her face pale and utterly bloodless.

"Driver, get the car ready!"

His voice was sharp with an undeniable edge of panic.

On the way to the hospital, Theodore Grant called Felix Finch, telling him to meet them there.

When the car reached the hospital, he carried Natalie straight to the emergency room.

"What happened?"

Felix Finch reached out to take her, but Theodore Grant moved away.

He carried her directly into a treatment room himself.

Felix didn’t argue the point. After explaining the situation to the doctor, he waited outside with Theodore.

Theodore took out a cigarette and put it to his lips.

His thumb flicked the lighter a few times, but it wouldn’t catch.

"No smoking in the hospital. You’ll have to bear with it," Felix said.

Annoyed, Theodore Grant threw both the cigarette and the lighter into the trash can.

Agitated, he ran a hand through his thick hair.

The light above the emergency room door was on.

It was a glaring, unsettling sight.

Partway through, a nurse came out, said a few words to Felix, handed him a form, and went back inside.

Felix handed the form to Theodore. "You need to sign this."

"Sign what?" he asked, his bloodshot eyes glancing at the paper.

It was a surgical consent form.

Felix sighed. "Natalie... she needs surgery."

He didn’t know if Theodore had done this on purpose.

Or if Natalie’s body was just too frail to withstand a grown man’s strength.

He couldn’t meddle in this kind of affair between a husband and wife.

"She was brought in quickly, so her life shouldn’t be in danger."

Theodore’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He took the pen from Felix and signed his name, his hand trembling uncontrollably.

Felix took the signed consent form and stood up to give it to the nurse.

「When Natalie awoke.」

The room was stark white.

Her vacant eyes stared at the ceiling for a long, long time.

She wanted to cry, but she had no tears left.

’Even if she could cry, who would see her tears?’

She had no choice but to swallow all her grievances. There was nowhere else for them to go.

Felix pushed the door open and walked in, his voice gentle. "You’re awake."

"It’s a pity I didn’t die." Her chapped lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. "You shouldn’t have saved me. Living... is honestly worse than being dead."

A bitter feeling welled up in Felix as he watched her.

"Don’t say that."

"Felix, I’m sorry you have to see me like this." She was like a delicate white flower, torn and battered by the wind.

Helpless and pitiful.

Felix shook his head gently, his expression filled with heartache. "Theodore has a bad temper. He... I already gave him a piece of my mind."

’If talking to Theodore ever did any good...’

’...he wouldn’t be Theodore Grant.’

"Felix, please, try to talk to Theodore. Since he loves Wanda Lynch so much, since he treasures and cherishes her, he should just marry her. Besides... I can’t have children anymore. To the Grant Family, I have no value at all..."