Her Marriage: The Night is Still Young-Chapter 195: There’s No Going Back Anymore

"Ugh..."

Nathaniel Gallagher stepped out of the room, dizziness hitting him, nearly causing him to fall.

The assistant hurriedly supported him, "President Gallagher, your injuries are so severe, you need to rest well."

"It’s nothing..." Nathaniel’s face turned pale, cold sweat pouring out in layers.

The wounds on his back and arm were deep, and the freshly changed bandages were soaked through with blood again.

"President Gallagher, your wound is bleeding again, let me apply some medicine for you."

"Alright." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Later on.

The assistant helped Nathaniel to the adjacent lounge.

Carefully unwrapped the bandages on his back.

The skin and flesh around his wound were turned inside out, fresh beads of blood mingling with the previous scabs, making for a horrifying sight.

"Hiss—"

When the alcohol swab wiped over the wound.

Nathaniel let out a muffled groan, the veins at his temple throbbing furiously. He tightly gripped the sofa armrest, stubbornly refusing to make a sound.

The doctor became increasingly gentle, applying the medicine while softly saying, "President Gallagher, your wound is very deep, I still suggest you be hospitalized for treatment..."

"Shut up." Nathaniel interrupted him, his voice hoarse.

The doctor sighed, saying no more, focusing on bandaging the wound.

The white bandage quickly became tinged with a faint red mark from the bleeding.

Nathaniel slumped against the sofa, closing his eyes to relax a bit.

The intense pain on his back came in waves like a tide, but what worried and troubled him more was Josephine Thompson.

"Find out where Julian Grant is," he suddenly spoke, his tone as cold as ice.

"Yes." The assistant responded and was about to leave when he was called back.

"Don’t alert him." Nathaniel added, unconsciously rubbing the texture of the sofa with his fingertips.

The assistant paused, then nodded, "Understood."

The lounge was left with only Nathaniel.

He raised his hand to rub his tense temples, his chest aching with tension.

With things as they are now.

He must consider the next step of planning a full retreat.

He is a madman.

Julian is equally mad.

Things between him and Julian have reached a life-or-death stage.

If he doesn’t finish off Julian, Julian will eventually finish him off.

Nathaniel endured the pain, took out his phone and called Eleanor Churchill.

"Beep beep beep..."

"Hello, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable..."

"Why isn’t Eleanor answering the phone?"

He dialed a few more times.

Eleanor still didn’t answer the phone.

With no other option, he called the housekeeper.

"Hello."

On the other end, the housekeeper’s anxious voice came through, "President Gallagher, things aren’t good, Mrs. Churchill is hospitalized."

Upon hearing this, Nathaniel’s brows furrowed, "What happened?"

"Mrs. Churchill suddenly fainted this morning, and the hospital examination said it’s an acute myocardial infarction, currently still in the emergency room."

The housekeeper’s voice carried a sob, "The doctor said it’s not looking good, asking the family to go quickly..."

Nathaniel’s fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles turning white. The wound on his back felt like it had been torn open, pain bringing darkness to his vision.

"Is it very serious?"

The housekeeper spoke in an anxious tone, "President Gallagher, you’d better come back! Not only Mrs. Churchill is hospitalized, but Madam Gallagher is also hospitalized. Yesterday, after Mrs. Churchill finished the phone call with you, she suddenly became very agitated, don’t know what provoked her. She had a big argument with Madam Gallagher and even locked the young master in the little black room."

"..." Nathaniel’s heart sank.

Eleanor probably knows that he’s been staying with Josephine these days. That’s why she was so upset.

"President Gallagher, President Gallagher, are you listening?"

"I know, I’ll come back as soon as possible."

"Alright, President Gallagher."

He hung up the phone.

The lounge became deathly silent.

He leaned against the sofa, his chest heaving violently, like there was a giant rock pressing down, making even breathing painful.

"Nathaniel, what exactly is wrong with you? How can you do something so irrational?"

His chest tightened, a faint regret brewing.

He deeply hurt Eleanor once again.

Yet he just couldn’t control his actions.

Eleanor is undoubtedly the most important to him.

But most important doesn’t mean most loved.

A man’s heart can be so strange.

He won’t deeply love a woman who gives him everything.

But he will deeply love the woman for whom he’s willing to give everything.

"Ha..." he let out a low laugh, filled with self-mockery.

In this state, how is he any different from the mad Julian?

Both are ruining their lives for a woman.

The wound on his back started to throb with pain again, he hunched his back, the stray hair on his forehead wet with cold sweat, clinging to his pale skin.

The phone screen was still lit.

On the call log interface, Eleanor’s name was like a thorn, stinging his eyes.

The assistant cautiously reminded, "President Gallagher, should you return to Caldwen?"

"...Has Josephine woken up?"

"Not yet."

Nathaniel stood up, heading towards Josephine’s room.

"Click!"

He pushed open the door.

The room was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

Josephine lay on the bed barely breathing, her face as pale as paper.

Nathaniel’s steps halted by the bedside, his gaze pinned to her face, unable to move away.

"President Gallagher, Miss Thompson was given medication just now, she won’t wake up too soon."

"Mm, understood."

He carefully sat down, his gaze fell on her bandaged wrist.

At the edge of the bandage, hints of dark red peeked through, like freshly seeping blood, making his heart ache.

"...Josephine." he softly called out, his voice hoarse as if scrubbed by sandpaper.

"Do you really hate me that much?"

Josephine showed no signs of life, like a sleeping doll.

Nathaniel’s heart ached sharply, his eyes reddened from the torment, he gently stroked the stray hair on her cheek, lamenting, "Is it really never going back?"

In truth, he already knew the answer.

Their relationship was already broken, no way to repair it.

Nathaniel’s fingertips paused by her cheek, the cool sensation like an electric current, tingling his heart.

He stared at her tightly pursed lips, still bearing traces of the blood he had drawn last night.

"No going back, huh..." he murmured to himself, the end of the words trembling severely.

He recalled their first meeting.

She wore a white dress, sitting in a corner of the restaurant, mistaking him for her blind date.

The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window onto her hair, making her seem almost illuminated. She waved at him with a gentle smile, her eyes as if holding stars.

Initially, he thought she was a gold-digger attempting to lure him with tactics.

But seeing that she was indeed very beautiful, he thought it wouldn’t matter to have a fling.

But what happened next?

Everything unfolded beyond his expectations.

It seemed he had played with fire.

"I know you hate me."

His Adam’s apple rolled, and his voice was thick with nasal tone, "Hate me for locking you up, hate me for hurting Julian Grant, hate me for... forcing you again and again."

But what he didn’t say was that he hated himself even more.

Hated his uncontrollable obsession, hated how he wanted to be close yet always chose the most hurtful ways.

The sky outside gradually lightened.

Morning light seeped through the gaps in the curtains, casting a faint glow on her face.

Nathaniel Gallagher stood up and took one last look at her.

His eyes were swirling with too many emotions—reluctance, pain, and a trace of despair that even he didn’t notice.

"Wait for me."

He said softly, as if it were a promise, or perhaps a farewell, "No matter if you believe it or not... this time, I will give you an explanation."

After speaking, he turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door so gently it was almost inaudible.

The room returned to silence, with only the sound of liquid dripping through the IV tube.

After a long while.

Tears suddenly slipped from Josephine Thompson’s tightly shut eyes, silently soaking into the pillow.

No going back.

There indeed was no going back.

A broken relationship has no winners.

She hates him.

But she once truly loved him.

Reaching this point, how can it not be sad?

...

Nathaniel Gallagher left the room and immediately instructed his assistant to pack up and prepare for a return to Audenburg.

At the moment, he was more worried about Eleanor and had to rush back to see her.

"President Gallagher, the plane is ready; you can head to the airport now."

"Hmm, keep an eye on her, don’t let anything happen."

"Yes, President Gallagher."

Nathaniel Gallagher walked towards the car with a gloomy face.

The driver opened the car door respectfully saying, "President Gallagher, please get in."

...

hours later.

As the plane landed at Audenburg Airport, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

Nathaniel Gallagher walked out of the cabin.

The cool morning breeze rushed into his shirt, causing the wound on his back to ache sharply.

He didn’t let the assistant arrange a wheelchair, straightening his back as he walked through the VIP channel.

The sound of his black leather shoes on the shiny floor was a dull thud, each step feeling like walking on the tip of a knife.

"President Gallagher, directly to Audenburg University Hospital?" The assistant followed behind, holding a medical kit, her tone full of concern.

"See my mother first." Nathaniel Gallagher’s voice carried little fluctuation, with only a tightly pressed lip line revealing a bit of tension.

"Okay."

The car just drove into the hospital parking lot.

The butler greeted him with reddened eyes: "President Gallagher, you finally came back! The old lady woke up once at midnight, constantly murmuring your name..."

Nathaniel Gallagher said nothing, heading straight to the inpatient department.

In the elevator.

He looked at his own pale, haggard face in the mirror, with dark circles like ink stains that wouldn’t fade. The faint bandages at his shirt collar were marked with dark red blood stains.

This appearance was so unfamiliar, even to himself.

"President Gallagher, please enter."

Opening the old lady’s hospital room door, the smell of disinfectant permeated immediately.

Mrs. Gallagher was leaning against the bed head.

Seeing him enter, her cloudy eyes brightened, then dimmed as she turned her head away, "Still know to come back?"

"Mom." Nathaniel Gallagher walked over, his voice hoarse.

"Don’t call me." Mrs. Gallagher’s voice was filled with anger.

"In your eyes, do you still have me as your mother? For that woman, what kind of chaos have you brought to this family? And Eleanor Churchill, that jinx, insisted on locking Henny in the little dark room, scared your son into not speaking for three days, you..."

"I know I was wrong." Nathaniel Gallagher interrupted her, looking down at his shoe tips, "You take care of yourself first, other matters I will handle."

Mrs. Gallagher turned her head, seeing the blood seeping from his back, her eyes rimmed with tears: "And you? Fighting again?"

"Minor injury. How is Eleanor doing?"

At the mention of Eleanor Churchill.

Mrs. Gallagher’s anger rose again, but ultimately she didn’t scold him any further, just sighed, "The doctor said her situation is not good, you... go take a look."

Nathaniel Gallagher nodded and turned to leave.

As he passed the corner of the corridor.

He bumped into a servant holding a thermos, the porridge inside spilling out, splattering onto his suit pants.

"Sorry President Gallagher!" The servant was pale with fear.

"It’s fine." He waved his hand, his eyes falling on the tightly closed rescue room door, the red light glaring.

He leaned against the wall.

The severe pain in his back and the heaviness in his heart intertwined, almost causing him to collapse.

The phone in his pocket vibrated; it was a message from the assistant: Miss Thompson has woken up, but refuses to eat.

Nathaniel Gallagher stared at the line of text, his fingertips trembling slightly. He wanted to reply but hesitated repeatedly, finally sending just two words: Watch her

"Click."

The rescue room door suddenly opened.

The doctor stepped out removing his mask: "Mr. Gallagher, Mrs. Churchill is temporarily out of danger but remains comatose and needs to be moved to ICU for observation."

Nathaniel Gallagher breathed a sigh of relief, but his back went limp, almost causing him to slide to the ground.

He steadied himself against the wall, hoarsely asking, "Will she wake up?"

The doctor hesitated a moment, nodding, "We will do our best."

Watching Eleanor being wheeled into the ICU, Nathaniel Gallagher stood at the window, gazing at the gray, blurry sky over Caldwen.

The distant sea veiled in fog resembled his current situation—unclear direction and no exit.

He suddenly remembered from years ago, Eleanor had said, "Nathaniel, no matter how tough, we bear it together."

Yet now, he had cornered her into despair.

The phone vibrated again.

The butler sent a photo of the little master holding a toy sitting by the ward door, timidly watching the direction of the ICU.

Nathaniel Gallagher’s eyes instantly reddened.

He took out a cigarette box intending to smoke, remembering it was a hospital, then put it back.

Some debts must eventually be paid.

Whether to Eleanor Churchill or Josephine Thompson.

He took out his phone, sending a message to the assistant: Book the earliest flight ticket, as soon as I finish handling things here, I’ll return immediately.

When the successful transmission prompt popped up.

He seemed to envision Josephine Thompson lying in bed—pale, fragile, yet with an unyielding stubbornness.

The wind from Audenburg swept through the window, bringing a salty, humid scent, reminiscent of the island’s flavor.

Nathaniel Gallagher closed his eyes.

For the first time, realizing the heaviness of being unable to act independently.

Nathaniel Gallagher just reached the end of the ICU corridor where he saw a group of uniformed men gathered at the entrance, with the glaring "Investigation Bureau" badge on their IDs.

The people at the nurse station were anxiously rushing in circles, and the butler was blocking the entrance, his face pale.

"You can’t go in! Mrs. Churchill has just escaped danger and is still unconscious!" the butler’s voice was choked with tears.

The lead man presented an arrest warrant, his tone hard: "Eleanor Churchill is suspected of illegal asset transfer and business fraud. We are lawfully performing our duty."

Nathaniel Gallagher’s steps halted abruptly, the wound on his back felt like it was being mercilessly gouged, making his vision go black.

He quickly went over and gripped the man’s wrist: "What do you mean?"

The man glanced at him, recognizing Nathaniel, his expression softened slightly but he didn’t relent: "Mr. Gallagher, we received an anonymous report that Mrs. Churchill once transferred nearly ten billion in assets through shell companies, involving multiple business disputes. The evidence is conclusive, she must cooperate with the investigation."

"Impossible." Nathaniel Gallagher’s voice tightened, "Eleanor never handles company affairs, she can’t even read financial reports."

"Whether it’s groundless or not, bring her back to examine and it will be clear." The man pulled his hand back, signaling to his men to prepare to open the door, "Mr. Gallagher, don’t hinder justice."

The ICU door was opened slightly, with the faint sound of the machinery inside ticking.

Nathaniel Gallagher looked at the tubes surrounding Eleanor on the hospital bed, his heart felt like it was crushed by a boulder. How could she possibly understand these things unless... someone deliberately set her up.

He suddenly thought of Julian Grant, recalling the man’s icy, calculating look when leaving. Was it him? Or...

"Wait." Nathaniel Gallagher stopped them, his gaze filled with coldness, "She can’t be moved now. Her condition can’t withstand it."

"Mr. Gallagher, you should know the consequences of obstructing justice."

Nathaniel Gallagher said nothing more, taking out his phone and dialing the lawyer, his voice cold as ice: "Bring the team to the central hospital ICU, Eleanor Churchill is being targeted by the investigation bureau, handle it immediately."