Remarriage Failed Again Today-Chapter 184: Annabelle Linton, Must You Go Against Me Like This?

Annabelle took her white coat from the hanger and put it on.

She then picked up a report from the desk and walked elegantly toward the door, as if she hadn’t heard Leona speak.

A flicker of irritation ignited within Leona. He blocked the doorway, suppressing his frustration as he looked at Annabelle. "Annabelle Linton, let’s talk. It won’t take much of your time."

A cold light flickered in Annabelle’s eyes. She said icily, "I have nothing to say to you."

"What if it’s about our relationship? I’ve made a decision. Don’t you even care?"

Annabelle’s lips curled into a sneer as she looked at him with disdain. "Since when have ’feelings’ ever been a part of our relationship? And why should I care?"

"Annabelle Linton, do you have to fucking fight me on everything?!"

Leona ignored the knot of frustration in his chest and growled in a low voice, "Why do you always talk to me in that tone? How have I offended you? Have I wronged you in some way?"

Annabelle didn’t waste her breath on him. She said sharply, "Get out of my way. Don’t make me say it again."

Leona stared at her exquisite, indifferent face, so impeccably cold.

She was cold. Too cold.

It was like a blade of ice stabbing into his chest, sharp and frigid, threatening to freeze his very organs solid.

He was cold, but she was colder.

He was proud and distant, but she was even more unyielding.

A sudden sense of powerlessness washed over Leona.

"I don’t want to fight with you." Leona took a deep breath, reining in his emotions. His voice finally softened. "Annabelle Linton, ten minutes. Just give me ten minutes."

Annabelle slowly turned her deep, abyss-like eyes toward him. She appeared calm on the surface, but deep within her gaze, a fatal layer of ice was slowly forming.

"What gives you the right to demand we talk, just because you want to? Why should I give you ten minutes, just because you ask for it?"

Annabelle raised a pale finger, prodding his chest with a blank expression. "Leona Grant, tell me. By what right?"

"By the right that I am your husband! That you are Mrs. Grant! That I was your first! Isn’t that enough?!"

Annabelle was so furious she let out a sharp laugh. She nodded angrily. "Fine. Ten minutes. You have your ten minutes. Let’s see what you could possibly have to say!"

For a moment, neither of them spoke, locked in a cold standoff.

Leona stared at Annabelle’s stubborn face. The memory of her sobbing the night before surfaced, and he felt his resolve begin to crumble.

He closed his eyes. His voice was hoarse but laced with determination. "Annabelle Linton, I’ve made up my mind. I want to build a real life with you. From now on, I’ll fulfill my duties as a husband. For Grandpa’s sake, for the sake of our marriage... let’s treat each other well. Let’s not get a divorce. Okay?"

When Annabelle heard this, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

Her lips curled into a contemptuous smile as she looked at Leona’s earnest, serious face. Her expression was one of pure scorn. "If that’s your ’big decision,’ then I think we’re done wasting time. This is non-negotiable. I’ll say it one last time: get out of my way."

Leona’s eyes hardened. He scowled at her, his voice rising. "What do you mean by that?!"

’This was the first time he’d ever been so humbled, the first time he’d stooped so low as to ask for someone’s opinion, and the first time anyone had dared to treat his decision with such contempt!’

A storm of fury erupted inside Leona. He kicked over a valuable piece of medical equipment nearby and glared at Annabelle. "Tell me what the hell you mean!"