Not Enough Support From My Husband His Best Friend Stepped In Chapter 09

Not Enough Support From My Husband His Best Friend Stepped In Chapter 09

“And then what?”

He opened his mouth, yet no words came out.

“Will that bring my baby back?”

His lips trembled.

“Bryson. My daughter is dead.”

I bent down, leaning close to his face, speaking one cold word at a time.

“You trusted an outsider, and your child died. What do you think you can offer as repayment? Your life?”

He dropped to his knees and grabbed my legs. A man in his thirties, suit and tie, kneeling on the entryway

mat, face buried against my shins, sobbing like a child.

“Olive, I’m sorry.”

I didn’t look at him.

“Just sign the papers.” I pointed toward the study. “You tore up the divorce papers, but we can print another

copy.”

“I’m leaving with nothing. I don’t want a single thing.”

“Keep your money, your house, your company. Spend it on whoever you want.”

Bryson panicked. He held on tighter.

“Olive, don’t talk like that… I never knew Elsie was capable of such vile things. I was just swamped with

work.”

“She was my childhood friend. She seemed innocent and guileless around me, plus she had an advanced

education.”

“I thought she wouldn’t cause any trouble. I was wrong.”

Bryson begged through tears, but I was too worn out to listen.

“You don’t need to explain any of this to me. Bryson, either sign the papers, or I’ll file a lawsuit. There’s

nothing left to talk about between us.”

What was done could not be undone.

Our baby’s death stood between us. We could never go back.

Bryson’s eyes were bloodshot. He locked the door behind him, then pulled out his phone right in front of me,

as if trying to prove something.

“Elsie. Get here. Now. You’d better have an explanation for what happened to my daughter!”

Whatever Elsie said on the line sent Bryson over the edge. Enraged, he hurled his phone to the floor.

He grabbed his work phone and called his bodyguards.

“No matter what it takes, bring Elsie here. Within half an hour!”

I turned to the window. My chest ached.

I’d replayed that day countless times in my head.

If I’d been tougher, if I’d fought Elsie off the second she laid a hand on me, if I’d never let her near my baby…

would everything have turned out differently?

But I had fallen that day. The back of my head slammed hard against the sofa leg, blinding me for several

long seconds.

In those few brief moments, Elsie had picked up my daughter and dropped her straight into the bathtub.

The water was icy cold. The baby choked on the water, screaming her tiny heart out.

By the time I scrambled to my feet and rushed over, Elsie was already wiping her hands clean.

She stood in the bathroom doorway, looking down coldly as I trembled while holding my soaking-wet baby.

“Mrs. Carter, I draw a high salary. I ought to help Mr. Bryson lighten his load. It was only a bath. Kids have

strong immune systems; they don’t die that easily.”

“Besides, even if she did die, you’re just a breeding tool. You can always have another.”

Actions carry their own reckoning.

But watching Bryson keep going easy on Elsie time and time again, I preferred to let the law handle it.

Half an hour later, Bryson’s men dragged Elsie into the basement.

I didn’t know what Bryson did to her. Screams echoed out from inside, one after another.

I seized that opening, grabbed my suitcase, and headed for the airport.