THE RETURN OF THE BROKEN HUSBAND

CHAPTER 8: THE OTHER WOMAN

Alice's footsteps faded down the hospital corridor. The sound of her heels clicking against the tile grew quieter and quieter until it disappeared completely. Gregory lay in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Five minutes passed in heavy silence.

Then the door to his room opened.

A woman entered, and everything inside Gregory's chest seemed to stop. She was striking, with sharp features and an air of quiet authority that commanded attention the moment she walked into a space. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she wore an expensive black blazer over tailored trousers. But it was her eyes that held Gregory's attention—they were filled with something that looked dangerously close to rage.

When she saw him lying there, unable to move, something in her face crumpled. Her composed exterior fractured for just a moment before she pulled herself together. She moved toward him slowly, and when she reached his bedside, she took his hand gently in hers.

Gregory couldn't hold back anymore. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the paralysis, the lies, the crushing loss of his daughter—it all came pouring out. His shoulders shook, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Hot tears streamed down his face as he finally allowed himself to break.

The woman simply held his hand and let him grieve.

When his breathing finally steadied, she spoke, her voice tight with controlled fury. Her jaw was clenched so hard her temples worked visibly, and her eyes blazed with an intensity that was almost frightening.

"When you liked Alice back then, I had no objections. I stepped back because you were happy. I accepted it because that's what you wanted," she said quietly, but her words carried the weight of years of sacrifice. Her fingers tightened around his hand. "But now that woman has driven you to this state. Now she's destroyed you completely. I'm going to take you away, Gregory. I'm going to take you far away from her, and I will never let you leave me again. Never."

Gregory hung his head, unable to meet her gaze. His chest heaved with the effort of controlling his emotions. The woman's name was Isabella. They had grown up together in the same orphanage, two lost children finding solace in each other's company. He had saved her life once when she fell into the water during a monsoon, diving deep to pull her out. That act of desperation had bonded them in a way that transcended normal friendship.

Years later, Isabella's biological parents had found her. They were incredibly wealthy, belonging to one of the most powerful families in the country. When Gregory and Alice had gotten together, Isabella had reappeared in his life. Her parents hadn't approved of her bringing Gregory into their world—he was an orphan, a programmer, beneath their social standing. She had chosen to respect their wishes. She had stepped back to let him build a life with Alice.

And now, with his marriage in ruins and his body broken, she was here. She was still here.

"Divorce her," Isabella said flatly, her voice brooking no argument. She sat down in the chair beside his bed, never releasing his hand. "Right now. Today. End this charade."

Gregory hesitated. Even after everything, even knowing the truth about Alice's betrayal, some part of him hesitated. It was the part of him that still loved the woman he thought Alice was, even though that woman had never really existed.

Isabella's expression shifted. Sadness flooded her features, and she looked at him with eyes that held years of longing and sacrifice.

"I don't understand what you're still hesitating about," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "Look at what she's done to you. Look at what she's allowing to happen to you."

Before Gregory could respond, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. Isabella reached for it and checked the screen. Her eyes widened slightly as she read the message.

"It's from the hospital laboratory," she said, handing him the phone. "Your paternity test results are ready for pickup."

Gregory stared at the message, his heart rate accelerating. The moment of truth he had been waiting for had finally arrived. The results that would confirm what his heart already knew.

"Help me into the wheelchair," he said quietly to Isabella. His voice was steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I want to see the results in person. I need to hold them in my hands."

Isabella helped him carefully into the wheelchair, supporting his upper body as she transferred him from the bed. It was a delicate process, one that required both strength and gentleness. By the time he was settled into the chair, Gregory's face was pale and beaded with sweat.

They made their way down to the laboratory on the lower floor. The technician recognized Isabella immediately and greeted her with respectful nods before handing over the sealed envelope containing the paternity test results. Gregory took it with trembling hands.

The paper felt thin and insignificant for something that held so much weight. He opened the envelope slowly, pulling out the official report. His eyes scanned the data, the medical terminology, the conclusive findings.

There it was. In black and white. A zero percent biological match between him and his daughter. The report left no room for doubt, no possibility of error. The child was not his. She had never been his.

Gregory stared at the report for a long time. His hands stopped shaking. His breathing became steady. Something inside him had broken, yes, but something else had also crystallized. The last thread of hope that had kept him tethered to his marriage had snapped.

When he finally looked up at Isabella, he forced his lips into something that was almost a smile. It was a hollow sound when he spoke, devoid of genuine humor but filled with a kind of grim resignation.

"Well, now I have nothing left to hesitate about," he said, his voice strangely calm. "No daughter to protect. No marriage worth saving. Nothing holding me here."

He folded the report carefully and placed it back in the envelope. His dark eyes met Isabella's, and in them was a resolve that hadn't been there before.

"I want you to help me find the best lawyer in the city. A divorce lawyer who specializes in asset division and custody arrangements," he said quietly. His voice was steady and clear, stripped of all doubt. "I'm going to leave that woman for good. I'm going to take everything back, and I'm going to make sure she understands exactly what she's lost."

Isabella's expression shifted. She looked at him with something that resembled relief mixed with a fierce protective instinct. She nodded without hesitation.

"I'll make the calls right now. I know several lawyers who owe me favors. By tomorrow morning, you'll have the best legal representation money can buy," she said, pulling out her phone. Her fingers flew across the screen as she composed messages. "And Gregory, I'm going to need you to tell me everything. Every detail about your marriage, every financial asset, every piece of evidence that might be relevant. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

Gregory nodded slowly. For the first time since he woke up in this hospital bed, he felt something other than despair. It wasn't happiness. It wasn't hope. It was something harder and colder and far more dangerous.

It was for a purpose.

The man he had been before the accident was truly gone now. In his place was someone new. Someone who understood that the world didn't care about fairness or love or loyalty. Someone who understood that if you wanted justice, you had to take it yourself.

And he was going to make sure that Alice understood exactly what it meant to betray someone who had loved her unconditionally.