Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 682

After he finished speaking, Herman took out the iodine and disinfectant and placed them all on the table.

Draven finally seemed to come back to himself. He opened his right hand, revealing glass shards embedded in his palm—a gruesome sight.

Most people would have cried out in pain, but Draven's face was blank. He calmly pulled out each fragment, his gaze steady and unwavering as he watched his own hand.

Herman's face darkened, his brow deeply furrowed as he took in the scene. "I know you're hurting," he said, voice quiet but firm, "but you absolutely cannot do this again. I'm not speaking to you as a colleague, but as a friend."

Draven's tone was flat. "You don't need to worry about me. I know my limits."

Herman grew even more frustrated seeing Draven's indifference. He couldn't stop himself from pushing further. "Your limits? Is self-harm your idea of boundaries? This time it's your palm—what about your wrist next time? Draven, if something's wrong, you need to deal with it. Sure, maybe you're more capable than I am, but I'd never hurt myself like this." He glanced at the blood. "We're all worried about you. You can't keep living this way."

Draven heard the anger in Herman's voice and looked up, meeting his friend's eyes. He could see the genuine worry and frustration there.

Draven had never really cared what others thought. He almost never bothered to explain himself, believing it a waste of energy.

He did have self-control, but at this moment, he realized he owed Herman an answer. "I lost control just now. I didn't know how to calm myself down. Physical pain forces my mind to stop, and only then can I regain my composure. That's the only reason I did it—to get myself under control."

Even giving this much of an explanation was a result of Draven's recent self-reflection.

Even after breaking up with Ayla, he could learn from pain and take lessons away.

Meeting Ayla had shown Draven a side of himself he had never truly seen before.

Herman shook his head, unconvinced. "That explanation only makes this scarier. Once someone discovers a crutch like that, it's easy to lean on it more and more. It's like smoking—you think you can stop, but you don't." Herman's face was deadly serious. "Draven, I think I should get you a therapist."

It was a blunt and even offensive thing to say. It was the same as telling Draven to his face that he had mental problems and needed help.

But looking at Draven's current state, it was clear he was in a dangerous place. Someone who could hurt himself like this was already unstable and needed intervention.

Draven hadn't expected such a strong reaction from Herman. He'd said things to Draven he never would have dared say before.

Maybe this was what it meant to really live—showing your true self and letting people respond honestly.

Draven narrowed his eyes, long lashes hiding the complicated emotions that flashed beneath. He fought back regret and pain. "I've already found my antidote. For now, I've lost her. When I find her again, I'll be healed. Right now, I'm just surviving a difficult transition."

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