When Love Breaks (Josephine)

Chapter 97

Shawn was paring back and forth in the living room. When he spotted josephine, a mix of nervousness and guilt crossed his face. "M-Mrs. Forbes, you're back" Josephine looked at him, confused. Zayn had been in a car accident, so it made sense he'd be worried, but why did he look so guilty?

"Where's Zayn?

"H-He's upstairs.""

His stammering only heightened her suspicion, but she didn't probe further and headed to the second floor. Every comer of this house was familiar to her. She had chosen everything herself, from the soft carpets to the wallpaper.

"Zayn would probably change them after the divorce," she thought. Even if he didn't bother, the next woman in his life wouldn't want to live with the remnants of his ex-wife.

Reaching the bedroom door, she tumed the handle and walked in without hesitation. The acrid smell of smoke hit her as soon as she stepped inside, and she frowned.

Zayn smoked occasionally but never at home-and never in her presence, she wouldn't even have known about his habit if she hadn't once brought him a coat during a cold, rainy night and caught him smoking outside a hotel.

He was sitting against the headboard, shirtless, his pants hanging loosely around his hips. A deep, bleeding gash cut across his lower abdomen, but he didn't seem to care, putting on a cigarette like nothing was wrong Josephine walked straight to the window, yanked the curtains aside, and opened it to let some fresh air in Turning back, she couldn't help but cough from the lingering smoke,

"What are you doing here? His voice carried surprise as he stubbed out the cigarette on the table and fanned the smoke from the air. Realizing it wouldn't soon enough, he grabbed her wrist, leading her out of the room. 't go away

"Don't n

play dumb you were

were the one who called me here," she said. Yet, bere he was, acting all wounded and depressed. He was wasting his ralent as an actor, Josephine pulled her wrist free. "Sit down. Aren't you injured? The smoke is too thick in here. We can talk outside."

She glanced at the wound on his abdomen it was bleeding and looked pretty bad. "Quit messing around. Why didn't you go to the hospital after the accident? You're not a kid anymore. Why are you acting like this?" Zayn followed her gaze, frowning at the gash. "It looks worse than it is. But it's just a scrape. It'll heal in a few days."

"Listen here, I want a divorce sofrod joy life as a single woman, not end up a grieving widow. Now, go sit back on the bed. Josephine fetched the first aid kit, got him to lie down, and started treating his wound.

Zayn loved boxing and occasionally competed in rough matches. Injuries were par for the course, and she had patched him up so often that her hands moved like a seasoned medic

However, this time, she didn't hold back. She poured alcohol generously over the wound, twice for good measure, with no regard for how much it might sting. Yet, he didn't utter a single word of complaint

He was tougher than she expected. Josephine expected his face to be twisted in pain. Curious, she glanced up, only to find herself locking eyes with him. His gaze was deep and unwavering, filled with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. Hastily, she averted her gaze, hurling the bloody cotton swab at his face. "I won't be so nice if you keep staring at me like that."

Zayn easily dodged the cotton swab, propping himself up on his elbows with a sly grin "oh? What exactly are you going to do to me?"