CHAPTER 66: GUILTY OF IGNORING HER?

Inside the hospital, the faint smell of disinfectant hit Andrew’s nose as soon as he returned to the VIP ward with the medicines the doctor had asked him to bring.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as soon as Beatrice looked at him.

A soft smile lingered on her lips before she bobbed her head up and down.

"Much better," she said in a timid voice, her skin a bit paler than before, her eyelashes fluttering when she looked at him.

"That’s good. The doctor said the cut wasn’t too deep, thankfully," Andrew said before he glared at Sean, who pouted in the far corner, his face full of guilt.

Beatrice chuckled softly.

"I guess it’s life’s way of slowing me down. First, my foot got sprained, and now this injury in my leg again," she said.

Andrew turned to her before walking closer.

"Don’t worry, Beatrice. It won’t affect your life. I’ll ensure that. You were my secretary just to learn business. You can quit now. Also, since they are just doing that contest thing, you’ll have enough time to heal before shooting begins again," Andrew explained.

Beatrice nodded with a smile.

"Thank you, Andrew, really. You have no idea how much relief it brings me to know you always have my back. I don’t know what I’ll ever do without you. If only your grandfather had agreed to our marriage three years ago..." Beatrice let the sentence trail off.

She raised her hand to touch his hand, and Andrew cleared his throat before pulling away gently.

"You have Sean and others, Beatrice. Don’t worry about other things, and just rest," Andrew said, avoiding her gaze.

The words hit him like a soft blow.

Four years ago. That same conversation. That same hopeful glint in her eyes.

Back then, he was really eager to marry her, and if she had been the one proposing this idea back then, he would’ve smiled. He might’ve believed it.

After all, it was he who was eager to marry her while she was focused on her career and had gone abroad for additional training. But now...

His chest tightened for some unknown reason, and before he could stop himself, another face came to his mind, the face with disheveled hair and fierce brown eyes that once dared him to love her properly. Elara’s face.

As soon as he remembered her face, the call from the police station echoed in his head.

"Are you Miss Elara’s guardian? She had gone through something tragic. You should come down to be with her as she files a complaint."

This was what the officer told him. His fists clenched at the thought of her sitting alone in the police station and handling the matter, which even some strong-hearted people find trouble with.

He was going to leave that time itself, but Beatrice’s injury stopped him, and then it completely slipped his mind.

Andrew cursed inwardly as he looked at his watch. Two hours had passed since then.

She must be all alone, probably still waiting for him...

The thought made his heart clench painfully again as he remembered something like that happening earlier when she had gone to the market for the first time after their marriage and had been attacked.

He wanted to help that time too, but Beatrice returned the same day, and he had to pick her up.

He had asked Jason to go and get things sorted, but a company emergency kept him engaged. When he reached home, he found that Elara had waited for four hours at the station before calling his grandfather, who later berated him.

At that time, he had scolded her, saying, "How could she not know to return home after filing a complaint?"

That was one reason he didn’t allow her to go outside: he wanted to save himself some trouble.

All those things he did...

"Beatrice, I’ll have to go now. Take care of yourself. I’ll return tomorrow to meet the doctor and see the discharge procedures," Andrew said.

Beatrice’s expression immediately twisted, and she tried to sit, wincing in pain.

"Careful," Andrew scowled.

"Go? Where are you going? What could be so important than—" Beatrice said hurriedly, before evening her tone.

"You were so tired after everything. Why don’t you rest? Besides, your facial injury isn’t all good. Don’t overwork yourself," she quickly added.

Andrew nodded at her concern before looking at Sean.

"Sean is here with you. Call me if you need anything," he said, and before she could protest again, he walked out the door.

Beatrice’s expression changed as soon as the man left, her soft smile turning into a smirk.

It’s okay, Andrew. You are probably right. Maybe Elara needs you more than I do. After all, you might need to take her to a hospital for severe injuries. Beatrice thought and smiled.

Antonio sat inside the car as the engine rumbled to life, followed by thunder outside, the bad weather and storm resonating with his conflicting emotions.

On one hand, he wanted to leave Elara on her own to teach her a lesson so she would return and stop throwing this tantrum, but on the other hand, he didn’t want her to feel all alone and scared.

Andrew’s car came to a screeching halt outside the police station. His heartbeats pounded in his ears as he rushed in, ignoring the lingering fear in his chest.

He stopped at the dimly lit reception.

"Excuse me. A woman named Elara came earlier to file a complaint. Where is she?" He asked.

The officer, who had just clocked in for his night shift and was yet to have his coffee, looked up with a slightly annoyed expression, but when he saw it was Andrew Lloyd himself, he stood and greeted him immediately.

"Sir, that woman left already," he said.

"Left?" Andrew asked, surprised.

The officer nodded and opened the register.

"From what I can see, she left with a close person. Her cousin. She wasn’t hurt, just startled by what happened," the officer said.

Her cousin? Why didn’t he know she had a cousin, too?

Andrew shook his head. This wasn’t the time to think about that.

"What exactly happened?" He asked.

The officer looked at the further FIR with a grim expression.

"Around eight men broke into her apartment after she returned from some celebratory dinner and tried to attack her. Luckily, her bodyguard quickly handled the situation. She got some injuries, but not severe," the officer explained.

Andrew’s heart sank at the words.

Eight men broke into her apartment? Just what the hell was going on?

"Any lead on why they attacked her? Was it a burglary?" Andrew asked.

The officer shook his head.

"It seems the attackers had arrived with the motive of hurting her. In such cases, the attackers are paid to do so. We are going to get their statements since they are in the hospital," the officer said.

Andrew swallowed hard before pulling out his phone to call Elara to see if she was okay and where she was staying.

However, as soon as he called her, he got the same answer.

His number was still blocked.

"Umm... Can I use your phone?" He asked the officer.

The officer found it a bit odd but didn’t say much and gave him his phone.

Andrew dialed Elara’s number, and after a few seconds, the girl finally picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Elara?" Andrew asked.

"Who is this?" She groaned, probably having woken up from her sleep.

Guilt consumed him again before he cleared his throat.

"It’s me, Andrew. Where are you? I went to the station. They said someone took you. Are you safe?" he asked, his voice heavy.

He heard a slight rustling from the other side—the movement of fabric and the flickering of the light switch—before she sighed.

"That’s an interesting word coming from you," Elara said, her tone laced with a little mockery.

Andrew’s heart skipped a beat.

"Elara, I was coming right away, but I—"

"Got busy?" Elara finished the sentence for him.

"Yes. I figured. Don’t worry, Andrew. I’ve learned how to manage things myself. Isn’t that exactly why I am divorcing you? You are too busy, just when it comes to me," Elara added.

Andrew felt tongue-tied for a second.

"Elara, that’s not—"

"Save it." Her voice was calm. That was what hurt him the most. "You don’t need to pretend anymore. I’ll be there for your grandfather’s birthday. Don’t worry."

He swallowed hard. "Elara, that’s not what this is about. I—"

"It is, isn’t it?" she interrupted.

He could hear the faint smile in her tone—tired, sharp, and sad all at once. "That’s probably the only thing you care about. The image. The family. The name."

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Don’t worry," she continued softly. "I know how to play the perfect wife when needed. I’ve had practice. I want this divorce more than you do. So I won’t make a scene either," she said before ending the call.

Andrew looked at the phone, deep in his thoughts.

"Sir?" The officer’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he returned the phone to the officer, thanked him, and left the station.

As he sat inside the car, his heart suddenly clenched at the thought that the same woman who used to wait for him for hours might not need him anymore.

And rather than being happy like he had thought he would be, he felt rather sad, which made things even worse.