"I don't love you anymore!"
Clara's words hit him like a slap in the face.
Sean stood frozen beside the bed. For the first time since he'd known Clara, he saw no hesitation in his wife's eyes. No tears. No tremor. No remnants of love he could manipulate.
"You're lying," Sean finally said, his voice lower but heavy with tension. "You're just angry. You're traumatized. This is all temporary."
Clara stared at him for a long time. "I'm not lying!"
Her gaze made Sean feel even more uneasy.
"Clara, I know you're heartbroken because of what happened yesterday. I know you're hurting. But I'm sure you still love me very much." Sean looked just as confident as he said that.
"You're still chasing after me like we're still in high school. Maybe if you suddenly wanted to break up with me that easily. Hahaha." The man laughed.
"Don't be so confident. My feelings for you aren't what they used to be. I've buried that love deep inside!" Clara smirked.
Sean was speechless.
"Clara! You can't treat me like that. You have to keep loving me. I'm happy when I realize there's a woman who's crazy about me! I'm happy when I realize you're obsessed with having me!" Sean shouted.
"Hahahaha." Clara laughed. "Turns out you've gone crazy."
"Say whatever you want. The fact is, I know you still love me deeply, and you have to keep loving me. You have to love me, and you have to stay my wife no matter what happens!" Sean seemed to be losing control.
The man had become obsessed with how others felt about him. He felt happy when he realized he was loved. He felt elated when he realized there were others chasing after him.
Mrs. Diana, who had been standing near the door the whole time, clenched her fists. She didn't intervene in the argument between her son and daughter-in-law. But her presence was like an impenetrable protective wall.
"Stop yelling at my son. Otherwise, I'll kick you out of this room!" Mrs. Diana glared.
"Mom! Tell Clara that no matter what happens, she's my wife and she has to keep loving me!" Sean stared sharply at Mrs. Diana.
"I won't let you lay a finger on my son again! We won't let my daughter go back into that hellhole! I'll be the one to decide that Clara must truly part ways with you!" Mrs. Diana looked furious and emotional.
"Get out of my sight before I throw you out the hard way!" she screamed.
"You're mine, Clara." Sean began to lower his voice.
He walked toward Clara and reached out to touch her. But Clara immediately threw whatever was on the table at her husband.
"Don't come near me! Don't touch me at all! I hate you so much!" Clara screamed.
Sean froze. He couldn't accept being rejected by the woman who had always loved him so deeply. His pride felt completely shattered.
With mixed emotions, Sean left his wife's room. He walked away with his thoughts in a chaotic whirl.
Mrs. Diana immediately closed the door and locked it from the inside. She didn't want her child's recovery process to be disrupted by Sean or his family's presence.
********
Sean had just closed the door to Clara's hospital room when he stopped in his tracks.
"Damn it! I don't want a divorce! Clara has to keep loving me!" the man snorted.
The hospital corridor was bright, cold, and smelled of antiseptic—too clean for the chaos that had just unfolded inside Sean's head. His chest rose and fell; his breathing hadn't yet steadied. He roughly rubbed his face, trying to shake off Clara's voice, which still echoed in his ears.
"I don't love you anymore." Clara's words rang loud and clear in Sean's ears.
"Sean."
Suddenly, while lost in thought, Sean heard someone calling his name. The voice came from the end of the hallway. It was hoarse and trembling.
Sean looked up. "Moana?"
Moana stood there, her hair loose and disheveled, dark sunglasses covering her puffy eyes. The phone in her hand vibrated again, but she turned it off with a panicked motion, as if the device were a living creature that could bite.
"Moana?" Sean was startled. "What are you doing here?"
Moana hurried forward, her high heels tapping nervously. As soon as they were just a foot apart, she took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red, wet, on the verge of breaking.
"I can't take it anymore," she said, her voice breaking. "They're chasing me, Sean. To my house, to the office, wherever I go."
Sean swallowed hard. Several reporters were visible at the end of another hallway, cameras hanging from their necks, their eyes sharp and sniffing for a scoop.
"Who? Who's bothering you?" Sean asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Everyone," Moana sobbed. "The media, reporters, netizens on all social media, threats from unknown numbers, vulgar messages, and other forms of harassment. They say I'm a homewrecker. They say I'm a cheap woman. They—"
Moana's words trailed off. Her shoulders shook violently. She covered her face with both hands; the woman was crying uncontrollably.
Sean stood frozen for a moment, like a machine that had lost its command. Then instinct—or perhaps his ego—took over. He pulled Moana into his embrace.
"It's okay," he said softly, almost a whisper. "Calm down. I'm here."
Moana hugged him back, tightly. Her body pressed against his, her fingers clutching Sean's jacket as if it were the only anchor in this chaotic world. Her sobs grew louder.
"I don't like this situation," she said between sobs. "I just love you. Is that wrong? Is loving you wrong?"
Sean closed his eyes. In his chest, something was throbbing—not love, nor pure empathy. More like a bitter satisfaction: there was still someone whose life was ruined just because of him.
"No," Sean replied, his voice low and steady. "You're not wrong."
Moana shook her head, her hair brushing Sean's chin. "I'm scared, Sean. They said my life would be ruined. They said I'd be blacklisted in the real world and the online world. I—I, I'm scared."
Sean let out a long sigh. "I'll take care of it," he said. "I've always been able to handle things like this."