He Locked The AC At Sixteen While I Bled In Pain Chapter 07

He Locked The AC At Sixteen While I Bled In Pain Chapter 07

The doctor’s tone was heavy with accusation.

“I’m calling to do a routine post-op follow-up. Your wife, Nadia Sutton, underwent deep nerve repair surgery on her hand two weeks ago.”

“What nerve repair?” Ethan stammered.

“You didn’t know?!” the doctor barked. “The patient’s hand was deeply lacerated by a pair of rusty scissors. Not only did the wound become severely infected, but the blade cut straight through the deep motor nerves! Why wasn’t she brought to the emergency room immediately? How are you running your family?!”

“How… how is she now?” Ethan’s voice was completely broken.

“How is she? Because of the extreme delay in seeking medical attention and the infection from improper care, her right hand will never be able to perform fine motor skills again, even though we spliced the nerves back together,” the doctor scolded.

“She won’t even be able to lift a glass of water without her hand shaking uncontrollably! If she had come in right after the injury, this could have been completely avoided!”

The line went dead.

Ethan stood frozen in place. The phone slipped from his palm, clattering heavily against the hardwood floor.

“Can’t you see the blood on my hand?”

“You traveled all this way back just to see if she was frightened?”

Nadia’s pale, despondent face from that night flashed through his mind. He hadn’t just ignored her injury; he had condemned her bleeding hand as a cheap trick for attention.

He had personally destroyed Nadia’s hand.

Ethan let out a primal howl. Without even grabbing his coat, he sprinted out of the office like a madman and drove furiously back to the residence.

He kicked the front door open. Anna was sitting in the living room, flinching in fear when she saw Ethan’s bloodshot eyes. She hurriedly stood up to greet him.

“Ethan, why are you back at this hour…”

Ethan didn’t offer a word. He strode forward, clamped his hand around Anna’s throat, and lifted her straight up off the floor.

“Ethan… what are you doing…” Anna thrashed, clawing at his forearm as her face turned a deep crimson.

“You don’t have hyperthyroidism?” Ethan’s voice was deathly cold. “You enjoyed watching Nadia writhe in pain on the floor, didn’t you?!”

Anna’s pupils dilated in pure terror. She tried to stammer out a lie, but Ethan hurled her down onto the pile of cheap synthetic comforters.

“You dared to play me. You ruined Nadia’s hand just to feed your sick mind!” Ethan was completely unhinged. He didn’t hit her, but he tore away every layer of her deception.

“You love sixty degrees so much? I’m going to make sure you thoroughly enjoy it!” He ripped the thick winter coat off Anna’s body, leaving her in nothing but a thin nightgown.

Then, he marched over to the master control panel and locked the entire home’s climate system at sixty degrees.

“What are you doing? Ethan, I was wrong! I’m so sorry!” Anna begged, kneeling on the floor as she shook from the cold.

Ethan remained entirely deaf to her pleas. He gathered the ten cheap comforters from the floor and threw them heavily over her body. The rough, synthetic fabric rubbed against Anna’s bare skin, instantly causing a breakout of friction rashes.

“Didn’t you complain about being cold? Are these blankets enough for you now?” Ethan hurled the exact words he had used against Nadia straight back at Anna.

He dragged her into the guest bedroom, locking the door from the outside with a key. Then, he severed the breaker to the bedroom lights.

“Stay right there in your sixty-degree draft,” Ethan hissed. “Without my explicit permission, no one opens this door!”

For three days and three nights, Anna was kept inside. When the security team finally tossed the shivering, mentally broken woman out of the gates like a piece of refuse, Ethan didn’t even look her way.

He knelt in the center of the vacant master suite, clutching the rusty scissors tightly against his chest as his tears rained down onto the floorboards.

“Nadia, where are you…” he wept. “I threw her out, I turned the heat up… Please come home, okay?”

The only response was the steady, rhythmic blinking of the security cameras.