Chapter 157
She walked away… She didn’t even care about Logan anymore. How desperately she wanted to leave
him behind, even abandoning her once most cherished son!
“Matilda, how could you be so heartless!”
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Everyone in the hospital lobby witnessed a devastating scene: a strikingly handsome man. standing
where the woman had left, motionless, like a soul had been ripped from his body. turned into a statue.
It felt like his heart had been punctured, bleeding out, filling every pore of his body with pain. Yvan
didn’t understand what was happening to him. Matilda had given up on her son, leaving Logan in his
care. He should’ve been ted. Yet, his heart trembled violently, as if in agony.
Yvan took deep breaths, his eyes bloodshot from the effort.
Carl hurried over from behind. In his hands were some documents. “Mr. Boyd, I’m sorry I’mte. I just
saw Ms. Thompson leaving the hospital…”
Yvan snapped back to reality, staring at Carl, muttering, “It’s over.”
Carl paused, “What do you mean, Mr. Boyd?”
Everything was over.
Matilda had handed Logan over to him–just like that. Yes, wasn’t this what he wanted, to use Logan to
manipte her? And now that she had willingly let go, why did it hurt so much?
Because he had nothing left to hold Matilda with. He had driven her to a point where she didn’t even
dare to keep her son!
Suddenly, Yvan felt drained of all strength, gasping for air, clutching at his chest as if it would ease the
stabbing pain.
But he couldn’t find joy. This was all he wanted, so why… why was it so heartbreaking?
Yvan’s eyes reddened as he fought down his thoughts, barely managing to say, “Take Logan back to
the Boyd residence.”
“And Ms. Thompson?” Carl asked tentatively.
“She… she’s given up on Logan.”
Though Logan was the one abandoned, Yvan felt as if he, too, had been discarded.
The day Matilda left, the rain poured heavily. She came home drenched, but she seemed oblivious to
the cold as she stripped and stepped into a hot shower. Underneath the shower nead, her tears
mingled with the water cascading down her face, indistinguishable from one another.
Chapter 15/
Eventually, she copsed, hot water pattering against her slender back, the sound of water echoing,
steam filling the air.
She felt as though she had died.
The scalding water couldn’t warm her frozen heart. Her chest felt unbearably tight, and Matilda banged
on it futilely.
She retched on the shower floor, but there was nothing to throw up except bile, the burning pain in her
stomach bringing her back to some semnce of reality. Trembling, Matilda pushed herself up,
sweeping her hair back, revealing a pale, grief–stricken face.
That night, the storm raged on, relentless, lightning tearing through the darkness, illuminating the world
outside her window for a fleeting moment before plunging back into obscurity.
It was a haunting echo of the day, five years prior, when Matilda had been taken away in a police car.