Then came Cedric's unsatisfied voice. “I haven’t touched her in half a year. She’s too skinny. Hugging her is like hugging a dried corpse…”
Hearing Cedric say those words was like a slap to Dione’s face. She stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was hearing.
Her lupus had been hereditary, something Cedric had known from the moment they met. He had researched the condition and had been careful with her, reminding her every day to take her medication. And yet, here he was, speaking like that.
He had said it countless times, how sorry he felt for her, tormented by the illness, wishing he could offer her his own flesh to ease her pain. Yet now, to hear him say holding her was like clutching a dried corpse felt like a knife in her heart.
Ten years of marriage, how had their love soured so dramatically?
Then Ophelia handed over Cedric’s wedding ring, her gaze flaunting as she watched Dione’s reaction.
“Cedric never wears this when he’s with me,” Ophelia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “He says it’s bad luck. But you seem to like it, so I brought it back for you.”