He Got Engaged to His First Love On the Day I Died-Chapter 8: Bastard

Theodore Grant leaned against his car.

The streetlight overhead cast a glow on his hair and shoulders. His profile was strikingly handsome, exuding an air of cool, refined elegance.

He was born with the face of a classic beauty; even other men would give him a second glance.

He lifted his gaze and looked over at her.

When he saw the crutch she was leaning on, he let out a derisive snort.

Natalie Morgan’s heart tightened in her chest.

’In his eyes, me using a crutch is probably just some pathetic imitation. Not endearingly pitiful like Wanda Lynch would be, but more like a joke.’

"Felix Finch must have been heartbroken to see you in this state."

Felix Finch?

’Looks like they spoke on the phone. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come looking for me.’

"Aren’t we here to talk about Thomas Morgan?"

The man walked toward her, his cold features tinged with the chill of the night. He forcefully threw the divorce papers at Natalie Morgan.

"Take it back, and then we can talk."

"Still refusing to divorce, Mr. Grant?" Natalie looked up at the tall man. He blocked most of the streetlight, making it hard for her to even see his face clearly. "I’m not asking for a single cent. Isn’t leaving with nothing enough for you? Or do you not want to give Wanda Lynch a proper title?"

He reached out and grabbed her by the chin.

He stared straight into her eyes. "I’m afraid before I even have a chance to give Wanda Lynch a title, you’ll be giving one to Felix Finch first."

Theodore Grant’s words were ugly.

In their two years of marriage, she had always been faithful.

But he was slinging mud at her all the same.

Natalie was enraged. Her voice was hoarse. "With which one of your eyes did you see me and my senior doing something we shouldn’t? Do you think everyone is like you, in heat all the time?"

"Are you daring to say you haven’t?"

The man’s large hand tightened, squeezing Natalie’s face until it was distorted.

He took a step closer, his hand gripping her waist. "You think he’d stick up for you if he hasn’t gotten a taste?"

’So that was it. Felix must have said a few words in my defense, and it pissed him off. And now he’s taking it out on me again.’

Natalie’s face was pale.

Furious, she shoved him away. "You’re a complete and utter bastard."

Leaning on her crutch, she backed away step by step.

Her eyes were filled with unfamiliarity and contempt.

He reached out and seized the tense nape of her neck. His thin lips pressed against her small earlobe as he breathed hot air against it. "But you like a bastard like me, don’t you."

She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist.

The air froze.

Natalie struggled for a moment but couldn’t break free.

"Feeling bold, hmm?" He violently flung her hand away.

The woman, supporting herself with one hand on her crutch, couldn’t handle the force. She stumbled back two steps, her heel catching the raised edge of a brick. She lost her balance and fell hard.

Her palm was scraped and bleeding, covered in dirt and grit.

The immense pain shooting from her knee almost took her breath away.

Fortunately, two years at Theodore Grant’s side had taught her how to endure.

Even as blood soaked through her pants, she didn’t cry out.

He crouched down in front of her and gently brushed aside her disheveled hair. "You don’t make a sound in bed, and you don’t make a sound when you’re in pain?"

There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart.

Natalie was filled with utter despair.

In a wretched state, she used her crutch to push herself up from the ground.

She straightened her hair.

She tried her best to make her voice sound calm. "It seems, Mr. Grant, that you have no intention of discussing Thomas Morgan’s situation civilly with me."

"Whether we can talk or not depends on your attitude." His long fingers slid across the side of her face, and he shook his head. "And clearly, you have no attitude to show me today."

Natalie turned her face away.

She suppressed the hysteria rising in her heart.

It was late at night, and she didn’t want to disturb the neighbors.

’Theodore Grant hadn’t come to talk about Thomas Morgan at all today. He just came here purely to vent.’

She propped herself up with her crutch and began the arduous journey up the stairs.

Each step she took up the stairs felt like it took all the strength she had in the world.

The man looked down and lit a cigarette, the corners of his lips curling into a cold, thin smile.

As smoke swirled around him, his deep eyes were tinged with an inscrutable expression.

...

Natalie’s leg was completely numb.

All night, it felt as if her leg had been amputated.

In the morning, she stumbled out of bed in a daze. She took her temperature: 102.2°F.

She called Serena Sutton. "Claire, can you buy me some fever reducers and bring them over? I have a fever."

"What happened? Wait for me."

Without asking too many questions, Serena Sutton went to a pharmacy, bought the medicine, and drove to Natalie’s apartment complex.

"Nattie."

"Nattie."

Serena Sutton knocked for a long time, but no one opened the door.

A bad feeling washed over her. She remembered there was a spare key by the water meter and went to find it.

After opening the door, she rushed into the bedroom.

Natalie was convulsing from the high fever.

"Nattie, are you okay? We can’t just use fever reducers for this! Don’t be scared, I’m taking you to the hospital."

Serena Sutton immediately took Natalie to the nearest hospital.

Looking at the woman’s weak, pale face, then at her swollen knee and injured palm, Serena felt a pain as if her heart were being twisted by a knife.

She truly didn’t understand how a perfectly fine person could end up like this.

When Natalie woke up, it was already the morning of the next day.

Seeing Serena Sutton, she struggled to sit up. "Claire."

Serena touched her forehead. "Thank God, the fever’s gone."

"I haven’t had a fever this high in years," Natalie said with a self-deprecating laugh.

Serena couldn’t bring herself to laugh.

Her body was covered in injuries; they were almost certainly related to Theodore Grant.

"What happened to your leg?"

Natalie didn’t want to talk about it, but Serena insisted on knowing the truth, so she recounted the events in a downplayed manner.

Serena was so furious she could have spat blood.

She’d met cruel people before, but never anyone this cruel.

The tragic part was, even after treating Natalie like this, Theodore Grant still hadn’t agreed to let Thomas Morgan go.

"What terrible karma did you rack up in your past life to end up with a man like Theodore Grant? Cheating is one thing, but he’s also abusive! Nattie, you have to leave him, quickly. If this goes on, he’s going to torment you to death."

Natalie lowered her eyelashes slightly. Of course, she would leave.

’I can’t die. If I die, what will happen to my mother? What about my brother, who’s still confined in Unity Hospital?’

"Claire, Theodore probably won’t let Thomas out anytime soon. You’re well-connected. Could you ask around, pull some strings to make sure Thomas isn’t harmed in there? I... I... I can pay."

Serena understood Natalie’s worry, but... did she even have any money?

She had been with Theodore Grant for two years, and in return, he got a free maid and a bed partner he could use to vent his frustrations anytime.

What had she gotten out of it, besides a body full of injuries and one family member after another falling into trouble?

"Where would you get the money? In the two years you’ve been married, has Theodore Grant ever given you a single cent?"

Although it was humiliating, Natalie still nodded. "No."

"What a scumbag."

Natalie stayed in the hospital for two weeks.

Serena Sutton took care of everything for her during that time.

Her leg was treated with the best medicine and recovered quickly.

As she recovered from her illness, her mood improved significantly.

Cradling her tablet with its cracked screen, Natalie resumed submitting resumes and looking for a job.

An after-school training center extended an olive branch, and she decided to go for an interview the day after she was discharged from the hospital.

It was a chain of art tutoring studios located in the city center.