Too Late to Love Her: When She Divorced, He Fell Apart-Chapter 111: Please Stay Away from Me

The woman remained indifferent, showing no reaction.

Zoey felt that sense of crisis suddenly emerge again.

Even though the other person did nothing, it made her feel even more uneasy. Until she caught up with Tristan, and seeing his cold side face, Zoey suddenly realized it was actually Tristan’s concern for Claire that unsettled her.

After Tristan and Zoey left, Claire lost her appetite too.

However, it had been a long time since she had met with Jenson, so they sat together and chatted for a while.

Jenson said to her, "Tristan seemed a bit angry earlier."

"Angry about what?"

Jenson laughed, "Angry that someone doesn’t care about him."

Claire pursed her lips and said, "He wouldn’t."

Jenson looked at her helplessly and said, "Actually, I didn’t expect you two would really divorce. If I remember correctly, you were just sixteen when I met you, and at that time, you were already by Tristan’s side, right?"

Claire responded with a "Hmm," a hint of unnoticed sadness in her clear eyes.

Jenson sighed, "I always thought you and Tristan would keep going together. Do you know why?"

"Because you were wrong." Claire said. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"..."

Jenson was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

After pondering for a moment, he continued, "Claire, you are the person who has stayed by Tristan’s side the longest in this world, without exception. Conversely, Tristan has been the same for you. Can you really accept the idea that someone else might replace your places in each other’s lives in the future?"

If it were anyone else asking such a question, Claire would have relentlessly answered, "That’s none of your business."

However, Jenson seemed to possess a strange magic that allowed her to reveal the truth.

"There’s already Zoey by his side. For him, my leaving doesn’t even count as a loss. As for myself..."

Claire instinctively clenched her fist, then released it before saying, "I’ve long been accustomed to being alone."

After all, she was originally a child nobody wanted, but vainly believed she had found a reliance in Tristan.

"Jenson, please don’t say that Tristan and I will stay together anymore."

Claire finally stood up and said.

"This thing will never happen again, never."

...

After dinner, Claire took a walk with Tina and then soaked in the hot spring pool.

Tina was chattering nonstop, at times expressing frustration that Joy had gone to see Jude again, at other times cursing Nathan.

Claire was distracted, her mind drifting to Tristan’s indifferent gaze during dinner.

She should have been used to him being like this, but after not seeing him for a month, the familiar sting of neglect was even more overwhelming than before.

Whether it was staying too long in the hot spring or the weight of her thoughts, when Claire emerged from the pool, she nearly lost her balance and felt dizzy.

Terrified, Tina hurriedly helped her onto a nearby bench to lie down, then went to the nearby beverage vending machine and asked, "President Hale, what would you like to drink?"

Claire lay with her eyes closed, naming a drink.

"I want it cold," she added.

Since the vending machine didn’t have that drink, Tina told her to rest while she went to the supermarket to look for it.

Claire nodded.

She lay on the bench, her eyes closed tightly, trying to calm herself.

After some time passed, footsteps approached, and a bottle of cold drink was placed in her hand.

The cool sensation made Claire feel much more alert.

Assuming it was Tina, she instinctively grabbed the hand offering it and said, "Thank you."

However, as soon as her fingertips touched the dry palm, Claire instantly realized who it was.

She quickly opened her eyes, meeting Tristan’s dark gaze.

His gaze lowered, landing on their clasped hands.

Claire swiftly tried to withdraw her hand, but it was too late; Tristan gently held her hand, lifting it slightly, then, upon noticing the bruising on her forearm, asked, "Did you get hurt during the day?"

"Hmm."

She lowered her eyes, avoiding his scrutinizing gaze, sitting up from the bench, her entire body tense.

Perhaps it was because he was a doctor and carried ointment with him; Tristan sat beside her and began to apply medication.

"Luna is notorious for her bad temper, hard to deal with and resourceful. She now likes Sean; don’t provoke her."

Tristan suddenly said.

Claire frowned slightly, "I did nothing, it’s her who’s making senseless trouble."

"You and Sean were snuggling together during the day, and you call that doing nothing?"

"Kiara was the one who pushed me into the water," she said suddenly restless, feeling wronged, "Could you please not always accuse me from your pedestal? If you think everything I do is wrong, then please stay far away from me."

Tristan had just finished applying the ointment when his movements paused, staring directly at her.

Claire continued, "Besides, in terms of keeping distance, the one I should stay away from the most now isn’t it you?"

He silently lowered his head, causing her to miss his tightly pressed lips.

Instead, she aggravated her words, saying, "In your eyes, I am merely the ex-wife not worthy of mention. I have disrupted your interests, and may even damage your reputation. For you, I am not only dispensable, but may also be a hindrance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have just tossed me aside, would you?"

Her emotions were somewhat agitated, the normally calm eyes now rippling.

However, she soon realized her loss of composure, feeling that she had said too many things she shouldn’t have, with her care and possessiveness for him interwoven in her words, making her uneasy.

Afraid of being seen through by him, or ridiculed.

The next moment, Tristan’s action made Claire’s whole body stiffen.

He released her hand.

The night air brushed past her palm, and even indoors, Claire felt a bit cold.

Tristan stood up in front of her, lowering his eyes, seeing her long, thick eyelashes tremble.

For a moment, Tristan wanted to retort back at her sharply, exchanging barbs.

But suddenly, he recalled those first days after their divorce when he returned home alone, facing the empty villa, feeling that inexplicable sense of loss and loneliness.

He and she had lived in that house for nearly three years; even sitting on the sofa would remind him of scenes where he bullied her, pressing her down on it.

Not to mention, the deep sense of helplessness when sleeping in the room she once occupied, but without her by his side.