Secretly Married for 4 Years, He Regrets to Tears After the Divorce

Chapter 280: Chapter 280: Refusing His Embrace

The night grew deeper, and the entire city fell quiet.

Sean Sterling stood outside the door for a long time, the sheer exhaustion and the chill from the hospital threatening to soak him to the bone.

He slowly raised his hand and gently pushed open the door, careful not to disturb the person inside.

The harsh overhead light in the living room was off. Only a small, warm-yellow lamp in the entryway remained on, casting a soft glow that filled the space.

In an instant, the gentle light pulled him from the bone-chilling atmosphere of the hospital—an atmosphere filled with arguments and despair—and back into this little sanctuary of warmth and life.

His gaze fell upon the figure on the sofa.

Isla Griffith was curled up on the soft sofa, sound asleep.

A thin cashmere blanket was draped over her. Her long, jet-black hair spilled loosely across the throw pillow, and her serene profile looked like a gentle painting.

However, her brow was slightly furrowed. It was clear she’d been waiting up for him, staying awake until she couldn’t fight it any longer and finally succumbed to exhaustion.

The TV was on, its volume turned down low, playing a heartwarming family reality show. Onscreen, a family laughed and played, their happy chuckles faint but clear.

Sean stood frozen, and with a single glance, his heart melted.

All the humiliation, pain, frustration, despair, and helplessness he had endured at the hospital vanished the moment he saw Isla.

He softened his steps, walking slowly to the side of the sofa.

He gently brushed the sweat-dampened strands of hair from Isla’s forehead. His fingertips grazed her warm, soft cheek, his touch so light he seemed afraid of shattering a priceless treasure.

She was sound asleep, the result of utter exhaustion, yet her sleep was tinged with a shallow unease.

Sean’s gaze softened. He leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to her smooth, delicate cheek.

It was like the brush of a feather, carrying all the tenderness and longing he had suppressed throughout the day.

The very moment his lips parted from her skin, Isla’s long lashes fluttered twice, and she slowly opened her eyes.

Her drowsy vision slowly came into focus. The moment she recognized Sean, the tension around her eyes instantly smoothed, and a soft smile blossomed on her lips.

"You’re back." Her voice, thick with sleep, was soft and a little hoarse, filled with her reliance on him.

Sean wasted no time pulling Isla into his arms. "I’m sorry, baby. I’m late. I made you wait so long."

Isla settled into his embrace, shaking her head understandingly. She raised a hand to caress his tense jaw.

"It’s okay. Things are busy at the company, I know. I understand."

The more understanding she was, the more his heart ached for her, and the more he wanted to give her the world.

He gently stroked her back, his low voice a soft murmur as he asked after her, every word laced with deep concern.

"Did you eat on time while I was gone? Was the housekeeper’s cooking to your liking?"

"I ate. It was pretty good," Isla nodded.

Sean affectionately ruffled her hair. "Then we’ll keep her for now. If you ever get tired of her food and want to hire someone new, we can do that anytime, okay?"

"Okay," Isla said, tilting her head back to give him a sweet smile.

Their eyes met, and no more words were necessary. Love filled the air between them.

Sean leaned in, gently resting his forehead against Isla’s and nuzzling his nose against hers.

Their breaths mingled, warm and carrying each other’s scent.

Without any other movement, they simply held each other close, feeling the warmth of their bodies, the whisper of their breath, and the steady rhythm of their hearts.

Isla raised her arms, wrapping them around Sean’s neck and snuggling deeper into his embrace, her reliance on him palpable.

In that moment, even the air around them seemed to grow sweet and warm.

The family show on TV continued to play softly in the background.

A heartwarming scene, bathed in gentle light.

In this moment, there were no fierce arguments with his mother, no cold slap from his father, none of those soul-crushing words. There was only him and her, holding each other close, with their two unborn children.

It was a quiet, fleeting moment, but an incredibly precious one.

They stayed like that for a long time. Then, by the faint light of the television, Isla happened to look up, and her eyes fell on Sean’s cheek.

The clear, angry red mark of a handprint, not yet faded, met her gaze.

The smile on her lips froze. The sweetness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a wave of panic and heartache.

Isla’s pupils constricted. Her hand trembled as she raised it, carefully touching the reddened skin.

"What happened to your face?"

Sean’s body went rigid, and he instinctively turned his head, avoiding her touch.

"It’s nothing. I just... ran into a doorframe at the office. It’s a minor thing."

Isla watched his evasive gaze, and her heart sank. The rims of her eyes instantly reddened.

’She didn’t believe him.’

’A mark that clean and distinct... it was clearly a handprint. How could he have gotten that from bumping into something?!’

"Do you think I’m a three-year-old? That I’m that easy to fool?"

Sean didn’t want Isla to know what had happened today. He was afraid of upsetting her, afraid of the distress it would cause her.

He just wanted to brush it off and change the subject.

"It’s really nothing, don’t worry. It’s getting late. Come on, I’ll carry you to bed."

Isla pushed his hands away, stubbornly refusing to let him carry her.

"If you don’t tell me the truth, I’m not sleeping tonight."

"I’m really not lying to you," Sean said, his voice lacking conviction. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

"You are lying!" Isla’s voice broke, her eyes red as tears welled up.

"You can’t even look at me. How am I supposed to believe you?"

Sean was at a complete loss. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He had never been afraid of anything in his life, except for seeing Isla cry. He was terrified of her being hurt, terrified of being the cause of her sorrow.

Looking at Sean’s distressed, evasive expression, Isla already understood most of what had happened.

Tears finally streamed down her cheeks.

"Sean, tell me, that handprint on your face... was it your father? Or your mother?"

Sean watched the tears spill from her eyes, and his heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain so intense he could barely breathe.

He fought back the panic and stabbing pain in his own heart, reaching out to wipe away her tears, but she pushed his hand away.

"Sean, I’m going to ask you one last time. Who hit you? If you keep hiding the truth from me, I’m leaving right now, and I will never come back."

Isla suddenly shot up from the sofa. Her gaze was resolute, her tone unyielding, as if she had made a final decision.

"Well? Are you going to tell me or not?"

...Sean was in anguish.

"Fine. If you won’t talk, I’m leaving."

With a cold expression, Isla turned and walked toward the door without a backward glance.

Sean rushed after her, wrapping his arms tightly around her from behind. He pleaded desperately, begging her to stay.

"Please don’t go. Don’t leave me."

In her heart, Isla couldn’t bear to leave him either. "Just tell me the truth," she said, "and I’ll stay."

At this point, Sean had no other choice. He had to confess.

"It was my dad."