The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Chapter Thirty-One

Clayton stared at her in silence, the corners of his eyes reddening as he inhaled sharply through his nose.

Desperation shot fiercely through his mouth. “No, Olivia. We are not getting a divorce. I'd rather die than sign these goddamn papers.”

Her gaze drifted to the wedding band on her finger, the same ring he had slipped onto her hand while standing in front of the altar. Back then, Clayton had promised to protect her. Back then, she had believed every word.

“Do you remember our wedding vows, Clayton?”

A bitter smile touched her trembling lips when he failed to answer.

“I do. I remember every single word you told me the day we got married.” Fresh tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked hard, refusing to let them fall. “You looked me straight in the eye and vowed to stand by my side in joy and in sorrow, in laughter and in tears. With every beat of your heart, you promised to love me deeply and unconditionally, and you promised to always CHOOSE ME above everyone else.”

A tear escaped despite her efforts. She wiped it away before it could roll further down her face. “You spoke those words so sincerely but time proved how you failed me.”

Clayton visibly flinched under her gaze, as though she had slapped him hard. His eyes squeezed shut for a second. When he opened them again, they were glistening with tears.

“Olivia—”

She held up a hand, stopping the words before he could finish.

It hurt so much. Every breath felt like dragging shards of broken glass into her lungs. The pain threatened to steal her voice, but she forced the words out anyway. 

“I’m exhausted, Clayton. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I’m leaving you.” She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, as if it could stop the pain splitting her apart. “I’m doing this for myself because if I stay any longer, there won't be anything left of me to save.”

Olivia loosened her grip on the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Then she let go. The blanket slipped from her fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

She started walking toward the door, uncaring if her wet clothes made her shiver. Before she could reach it, white sheets danced aimlessly through the air, caught in a slow, dramatic motion. Then, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Don’t do this,” he choked out. “Please don't leave me. I know I don't deserve another chance, but give me one anyway. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just... Please don't leave.”

Clayton buried his face at the crook of her neck. His arms tightened around her, holding on as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of having her in his embrace. Because he knew, deep down, this might be the last time.

Something warm dropped against the side of her neck. For a moment, Olivia told herself it was water dripping from his damp hair. But the drops kept falling—one after another. They soaked into her skin, carrying a warmth no rainwater could ever hold.

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him cry. Yet she didn't turn around. Because if she looked at him now and saw his anguished face, she wasn't sure she would have the strength to leave.

Slowly, Olivia reached for the arms wrapped around her waist. She peeled one away, then the other. His hands resisted at first, clinging desperately as though they had a will of their own. But eventually, his fingers loosened and slipped away.

She leaned closer, her voice venomously gentle as it brushed his ear. 

“You can’t undo what you’ve done. A wound, once made, cannot be undone. And the cruelest thing about your regret is that it came too late for me to forgive and forget.”