Too Late to Love Her: When She Divorced, He Fell Apart-Chapter 23: She’s My Wife

Chapter 23: Chapter 23: She’s My Wife
He asked Jenson, "Found out who did it?"
Jenson’s face didn’t look good, "The bar surveillance was deliberately damaged."
"It wasn’t Kiara?"
Tristan Lockwood still remembered, Kiara was beaten up by Claire Hale’s assistant and was lying on the floor, unable to get up.
Jenson, "Kiara has been denying it. Without surveillance, there’s no way to prove she did it. Moreover, Tina Hayes beat Kiara without any evidence and has already been sent to the police station."
Tristan kept silent, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Jenson glanced at him, recalling what Tristan had said in the private room before Claire’s accident, and sighed inwardly.
The surgery didn’t take long. Two hours later, Claire was pushed out.
Clarence Finch approached them and said, "The wound required fifteen stitches. We’ll continue to monitor for concussion; otherwise, there are no major issues."
Tristan thanked him and turned to go to the hospital room.
At the doorway, his phone rang. He looked down; it was an unmarked number.
Tristan paused, stopped at the hospital room door, and answered the phone.
"Did he still come to Riverbend to find you?"
The woman asked, trying to hold back her sobs.
Tristan did not deny it, "You don’t need to panic. He can’t trace it back to me."
"But I’m really scared," her voice began to tremble, "He imprisoned me for so many years, treating me like I wasn’t human. Just thinking about the possibility of being dragged back by him makes me feel like dying."
At the mention of death, his eyes flashed, and he softened his voice, "I am here; nothing bad will happen."
Woman: "Can you come and stay with me now?"
She asked cautiously, and seeing no immediate response from him, she quickly amended, "If you’re busy, don’t force yourself. I can read those letters you sent me back then; maybe they would make me less afraid."
As she mentioned those letters, Tristan’s mind drifted to the gloomy days of two years ago, the warm letters she had written to him.
When Jenson arrived at the hospital room door, Tristan had just hung up the phone, his expression complex.
He stepped forward, "Why aren’t you going in?"
Tristan glanced inside the hospital room and said, "I have something to deal with. You take good care of her."
Jenson’s face did not look too good; he frowned and said, "At a time like this, what could be so important that you’d leave Claire lying in there?"
Tristan’s eyes turned cold, "I don’t need to explain myself to you."
"Claire heard what you said before she got into this accident. Now if she wakes up and doesn’t hear a word of concern from you, have you thought about how she’d feel?"
Jenson’s voice was icy.
"To take a step back, you two are married now. Even if it’s just fulfilling a husband’s obligations, you should be here by her side."
Tristan: "Claire and I will divorce sooner or later, there’s no need to do these unnecessary things."
When Claire woke up, her mind was still filled with images of Tina and Kiara fighting.
"Tina..."
"Tina Hayes is at the police station."
Jenson stood up from the chair by the window, walked to her side, and said gently, "Nathan is handling this."
She moved her lips, wanting to say something, but a fierce pain suddenly shot from the back of her head, making her feel like she was being split open, and tears involuntarily fell from Claire’s eyes.
Jenson took a few tissues from the bedside and gently wiped her tears.
"Rest well; with Nathan’s connections over there, Tina will be fine."
Claire drooped her eyelids, her gaze quietly sweeping around the room before returning to its original spot without a hint of concern.
Her beautiful almond eyes revealed a fleeting trace of disappointment.
Jenson noticed but said nothing, instead called Clarence to check for any other discomforts in her body.
After Clarence finished examining Claire and confirmed everything was fine, he glanced around the room, a bit surprised, "Tristan isn’t here?"
Jenson gave him a look, signaling him to keep silent.
Clarence didn’t understand his gesture and asked Claire, "Are you Tristan’s girlfriend? He wanted to personally stitch you up, even going so crazy as to inject himself with tranquilizers. I’ve known him for so long, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him lose his mind like this."
Claire’s eyebrows moved slightly, a bit incredulous.
Not to mention Clarence, in all the years she’s known Tristan, she didn’t believe he would act so impulsively.
She looked at Jenson, who nodded, tacitly admitting Clarence’s words.
Clarence: "Where is he now?"
Jenson cleared his throat, "Dr. Finch, don’t you have other patients waiting for you?"
Clarence, "It’s alright; I’m almost off duty, waiting for Tristan to take over."
Jenson: "..."
After seeing Clarence off, Jenson sat and looked at Claire. Her expression was very calm, almost unreadable. Jenson’s eyes darkened slightly, "Tristan must have something urgent to attend to."
She looked at him, a cool smile surfacing from her understanding gaze, "Brother Jenson, you don’t need to stress yourself explaining to me. Wherever he goes, it’s his freedom."
Her throat was very dry; she spoke weakly, her voice still somewhat hoarse, her whole being incredibly frail.
Jenson compassionately poured a glass of water for her.
Claire attempted to sit up, but as soon as she moved, the back of her head throbbed with intense pain.
Seeing the tears hanging from her eyes, Jenson gingerly propped up her pillow and carefully supported her head, resting it gently on the pillow.
In this position, Claire slowly sipped the water from Jenson’s hand.
Her movements were slow yet thirsty, taking five minutes to finish the whole glass.
Jenson gently held her, laying her flat again. As he straightened up, he saw Tristan, wearing a white coat, standing at the doorway.
Claire caught sight of Tristan out of the corner of her eye but didn’t look directly at him.
Tristan’s gaze fell on her, but he spoke to Jenson, "I’m here now; you go rest."
Before Jenson could respond, his hand was suddenly grabbed by Claire. She looked up at him, her expression gentle, "Stay here with me, please. I don’t really need anyone else."
Jenson looked at Tristan, whose face visibly chilled.
Jenson bent over with a faint smile, "Okay, I won’t leave."
Claire weakly curved her lips.
Tristan stood by, like an outsider, watching coldly as Claire clung to Jenson’s hand.
Claire was still very weak, her grip wasn’t strong, a slight struggle would easily pull the hand away.
Jenson didn’t release her hand, instead, he sat down at the bedside, his grip firm around hers causing him to pause slightly.
Claire’s fingertips were trembling subtly.
Jenson’s gaze sharpened, instinctively tightening his grip on her.
Tristan glanced at their intertwined hands but said nothing, casually pulling a chair to sit down.
The three of them remained silently in the room, until Jenson’s assistant called, announcing urgent matters at the company, prompting Jenson to speak to Tristan, "I’ll leave Claire to you; take good care of her."
Tristan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he curled his lips slightly, "She is my wife."