My Secret Lover of 10 Years Had a Heart Rate of 70 for Me—But It Hit 175 for His Ex Chapter 08

My Secret Lover of 10 Years Had a Heart Rate of 70 for Me—But It Hit 175 for His Ex Chapter 08

“Almost ready. Just sit down for a sec.”

“You drank a lot last night. There’s oatmeal in the pot-help yourself.”

My expression went cold.

“Get out. Who said you could come in here?”

Gabriel didn’t move. He slid the fried eggs onto a plate and set it in front of me.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept all night.

His voice was hoarse. “Eat something first, okay?”

An awkward silence settled between us.

I was still hungover. My head was pounding, and I couldn’t think or speak clearly.

All I wanted was for him to leave.

I reached out and smacked the plate away.

“I said I’m not eating!”

The hot fried eggs spilled across the back of Gabriel’s hand.

In an instant, the skin turned red and blistered.

He didn’t make a sound.

He crouched down and began picking up the shattered porcelain pieces from the floor.

“Are you even listening to me?” I snapped. Then I stepped hard on the back of his hand.

His palm was pressed against the broken shards. Bright red blood spread across the tile cracks.

Gabriel let out a muffled groan from the pain.

“I told you to leave,” I said. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Gabriel, weren’t you always so proud and untouchable?”

“What, did Lila finally dump your ass, so now you come crawling back to me?”

I lifted my foot.

Gabriel finally acted. He wrapped his injured hand in a piece of tissue, careless and rushed.

“Did that make you feel better? If not, here-do the other one.”

I couldn’t fathom what was going through his head.

“You’re insane.” I grabbed him and dragged him toward the door.

“If you came here just to mess with my head, you’re done.”

I shoved him out.

He stumbled and hit the wall. His white shirt was stained with dust, looking disheveled and humiliating.

“I…” he tried to speak.

But I slammed the door shut before he could finish.

I thought Gabriel would never come back again.

With his pride, he’d never put up with that kind of treatment.

But the next morning, I saw him waiting in the stairwell.

Gabriel leaned against the railing, staring outside. A faint smell of smoke lingered around him.

Breakfast hung loosely from his fingers.

“What are you doing here?”

He turned around immediately.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes. He rubbed them slightly before holding out the breakfast to me.

“I was waiting for you. Didn’t want you to skip breakfast.”

I let out a cold laugh. “Classic Mr. Donovan. A businessman to the core.”

“Always trying to buy people off with cheap little gestures.”

I bumped past him and walked out.

When I returned from work that evening, he was still sitting in the stairwell.

The breakfast from the morning was still placed beside his feet. He had stayed there the entire day.

“Why are you still here?”

Gabriel got to his feet, his legs clearly numb. He swayed before catching himself. “I…”

“Gabriel, do you not get it yet?” I looked at him-almost with pity. “We’re broken up.”

“For good. There’s no going back.”

His body stiffened. He tried to force a smile, to act like he was fine.

But the sweat on his forehead and the slight tremor in his hands gave him away.

No matter how hard he tried, the fear in his eyes was plain to see.

In the end, he only managed an ugly, strained expression.

“Can we talk about terms?” he said.

He bent down, picked up a file bag from the floor, tore it open, and pulled out several sheets of paper.

“I can give you the house and the car. Put everything in your name.”

“Or if you want shares in the company, I can talk to the board-work something out.”

I didn’t know what to say for a moment.

After a long silence, I finally spoke, “Do you really think money can fix something like this?”

Gabriel panicked instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I just… I just…” He clenched his teeth. “Audrey, I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“I want to make it up to you first.”

“Ten years, Audrey. You can’t just throw that away.”

“I promise I won’t contact Lila anymore.”

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone.

“I’ll block her. I’ll delete everything related to her.”

Night had fully fallen. The old stairwell light flickered on and off.

Gabriel quickly deleted everything and handed me his phone.

“Here. Check it.”

“Or whatever you want. Just say it. I’ll do it. Right now.”

“As long as we can start over.”

I didn’t move. Just like he once did, I answered with silence.

His shoulders slowly slumped.

He buried his face in his hands, and a choked sob escaped him.

He turned away, his body shaking-the tremors growing more violent by the second.

Tears fell, but they stirred nothing in me. Not even a ripple.

“Just go,” I said. “Nothing you do is going to change anything. We’re done.”

Gabriel disappeared for half a month.

From his social media, I could see he had been everywhere.

Beaches packed with women in bikinis hanging all over him. Yachts full of strangers.

He’d go through entire champagne towers in one night, then pass out in some random spot on the street.

He posted many selfies. In every single one, he was smiling.

A loud, wild smile-like nothing in this world could ever touch him.

Mike messaged me: [Is Gabriel losing his mind?]

[Check the group chat.]

In the chat, there was a message sent at four in the morning.

He had clearly been drunk.

He’d posted our wedding photos, the invitation-tagged everyone.

[I, Gabriel Donovan, take you-in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer-to love and to cherish, for as long as I live.]