Breaking Point of Divorce (Hugh and Bethan) novel Chapter 433

Chapter 433 The Wedding Photo

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Bethan had just returned to her hotel room.

At that moment, several hotel reception staff carried dozens of shopping bags of various sizes into her room.

The head staffer stepped forward, a polite smile on his face, and informed, "Ms. Olsen, there's a Mr. Cavill who had us bring these things for you to your room."

Bethan's brows knitted together in a subtle frown.

Mr. Cavill?

For the past couple of days, Hugh had been messaging or calling her a lot. Getting his messages in the morning and video calls at night had become a routine, and it was starting to annoy her.

Today, in a fit of annoyance, she'd declined his call and left his messages unread.

It was only when she idly picked up her phone that Bethan saw the string of messages from Hugh.

It turned out, he'd landed in Canada early that day.

Just then, a new notification popped up on her screen. Another text from Hugh.

In it, he explained that he was in Canada for business and had picked up some things for her on the side. And he'd already headed back home.

Bethan took a moment, then tapped out a quick "Thanks."

After a brief internal debate, she added another message: [But I don't need them. I've got my own stuff. Give them to Gwen instead.]

Without further ado, she gave the hotel staff an address and arranged for all of Hugh's gifts to be shipped back to the States, straight to Gwen.

Across the street from the hotel, Hugh sat in his sleek luxury car, his eyes fixed intently on his phone screen, his expression brooding.

Hugh had been so worried that she'd turn down the gifts that he'd made sure to tell her he'd already left.

But there it was, her message, diverting the presents to Gwen.

All he'd gotten was a perfunctory "Thanks."

A sharp pang shot through his chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the pain.

Hugh knew deep down that there was no hope of getting back with Bethan.

Yet, the sight of Tristen around her was like a knife stabbing at his heart.

This was the consequence of his own actions, the bitter pill he had to swallow.

Jacob was sitting in the passenger seat. He cleared his throat nervously and asked, "Mr. Cavill, do you want to go to the hotel and get some rest?"

Hugh's voice was thick with exhaustion and defeat.

"Let's go home," he muttered.

Jacob quickly relayed the order to the driver and then sat back, holding his breath, afraid to make a sound.

Hugh had made this impromptu trip to Canada in the dead of night, buying all sorts of things for Bethan.

And now, without even a glimpse of her, they were on their way back.

A day later in New York, around ten in the morning, an executive stopped Jacob in the hallway outside the CEO's office at Cavill Group.

"Jacob, can you do me a favor and take this document to Mr. Cavill? I'm really busy," he said, looking at Jacob pleadingly.

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