Inside the spacious vehicle, Clyde called the family doctor to treat my wounds. Betty was lying in the back seat, and as he looked at me, his expression softened.
For a fleeting moment, I was reminded of the time when he had agreed to marry me—his gaze then had been tender and full of affection.
After my wounds were dressed, Clyde gently took my hand and spoke in a low voice.
"Angela, I need you to keep Betty's pregnancy a secret. If the elders find out, she’ll be exiled from the capital again, just like before."
My heart sank instantly. His sudden gentleness wasn’t for me—it was for Betty.
Clyde’s eyes turned cold again as he sat closer, trying to pull me into his arms.
But the thought of Betty’s perfume and tears lingering on him made my stomach churn. I instinctively pushed him away and shifted to the farthest corner of the seat.
He stared at me with a mix of confusion and irritation. After all, in the past, if he’d so much as touched my hand, I would’ve been overjoyed for days.
Suppressing his temper, Clyde spoke again, his tone firm and matter-of-fact.