Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel Chapter 335

Chapter 335: Fiona’s Truth II

Ewan battled with disbelief, with incredulity, with shock. Yet he knew that Fiona was speaking the truth; maybe because of the resigned tone in her voice, or the clarity, the nostalgia evident in her tired eyes.

Still, knowing this didn’t make her words any easier to believe.

He had been friends with Athena.

Once. He had been close to her, had cherished her companionship enough to defy his parents, to stay away from his friend, Fiona.

He tried to remember this, and suddenly a wall shut him out. A wall and pain. He gritted his teeth, his fist clenching.

Damn it! He cursed, giving up.

His eyes found Athena then, staying. She looked as strung up as he was—less volatile though. She was looking at Fiona with what could be akin to amazement.

Hell, he was amazed too. He had been friends with both of them, at the same time. An impossibility that had been possible years ago.

Athena.

His eyes scanned her face—her lips, her nose, her long black hair, her high cheekbones—and then back to her plump lips.

Athena.

His savior.

Ewan’s heart shook within him, his fist clenched the more. How could he have missed the trail?

Another part of his mind urged him not to blame himself, yet how could he not?

He unclenched his fists, splayed them on his thighs. She had saved him, and because of that...

His eyes shut of their own accord. Because of that, she now dealt with headaches far worse than his—headaches that hadn’t been cured with her spectacular medicines.

Tears touched his eyelids. He didn’t bother to restrain them, didn’t bother to call the leaking faucet to order—it was the least of his concerns. He would rather let them run free.

Only when Old Mr. Thorne touched him gently on the shoulder did he open his eyes. No words needed to be spoken. The old man knew he was bleeding inside.

Ewan wanted to go somewhere and bawl his eyes out, punching the wall all the while... He had tortured his savior for three years... His heart cracked further, opened further, and bled more.

Athena. Cecilia Thorne.

He wondered if the old man would forgive him for hurting his granddaughter. But that gentle touch, that forgiving touch... it only served to wound him further, to open the floodgates.

"Ewan, crying?... that’s a first. Not that I’m surprised. You only cry where Athena is involved..." Fiona’s words broke through the haze, and he realized he had been sniffing, ugly crying in front of everyone.

Instantly, he collected the handkerchief Aiden handed to him, battling the urge to throttle Fiona right then and there.

Witch. Jezebel. Wicked woman.

There was no expletive that didn’t cross Ewan’s mind as he glared at Fiona with intense heat. She didn’t even flinch. Days spent in the ’psychiatric clinic’ had made her immune to many attacks.

"Do you want an incentive to continue your story?" Susan asked sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze filled with distaste. She wanted to be done with this phase—onto the next; questioning Morgan.

"Actually, I do," Fiona replied, licking her lower lip sharply—suddenly nervous.

"And what is that?" Florence asked, her voice sharp as a freshly sharpened knife.

Fiona swallowed painfully; her throat was going through a major crisis. But her stomach needed something more than water.

"Is there..." A pause, as she processed her thoughts again, not wanting to overstep the little freedom given to her.

"Is there a way I can get something to eat? Talking is making me dizzy."

Florence frowned, took her upper lip in, grazing it with her teeth while contemplating, as the others did. Finally, she succumbed. Desire to hear more of the story won over her caution.

"Do you have something, Connor? Chocolate or biscuits? Something she could chew on while talking?"

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify