Cage

Chapter 44 

When I woke up the next day, I found myself still curled up in the armchair but covered with a thin blanket. 

Clyde was sitting quietly on the bed, watching me. “You awake?” 

I moved a bit, feeling sore all over. It turned out even the most expensive armchairs were not perfect for sleeping, especially not these single–seaters. I twisted my neck, fearing I might have a stiff neck. 

He reached to rub my neck, but I pushed him away. 

Clyde said unpleasantly, “Melanie, what are you doing? Preferring the couch over sharing a bed with me? You’re my wife!” 

The word “divorce” almost slipped out, but I swallowed it back down. 

The Patterson Group was in chaos, and this was no time for harsh moves. Even though I was considering divorce, it needed to be handled discreetly. 

-Bringing it up at the time would drive Clyde mad. It would be better to embarrass oneself 

at home than in public. 

I glanced downstairs, spotting Jade’s car. Her call came in just then. “Melanie, I’m here. You up yet?” 

Checking the time, it was only 7 a.m. Jade must’ve been up since dawn. I felt guilty. 

I answered, “Give me ten minutes. I’ll take a shower and head out.” 

“What’re you up to?” Clyde attempted to follow me into the bathroom, but I pushed him 

out. 

“Out with Jade for a check–up. Don’t worry.” I locked the bathroom door firmly, wanting no intrusion. 

Clyde banged on the door in frustration but eventually backed off. 

After showering and changing, I rushed out of the room. 

Evelyn looked from the car outside to me. “Melanie, heading to the office this early without -waiting for Clyde?” 

“Sorry, I’m taking a friend to the hospital.” I hurried out after changing my shoes. 

I could feel Clyde’s gaze from the second–floor window but refused to look back. 

Jade yawned at me. “What’s going on? Did you stay over? They didn’t give you a hard time, did they? Merritt isn’t just siding with his grandson, is he?” 

I shook my head, not wanting to explain. After all, we were getting a divores 

well repay the Patterson family for their years of kindness. 

Jade didn’t pry further, though she seemed in a hurry that day. 

I asked, “Jade, something urgent?* 

She shook her head, dismissing another call. 

“If you’re busy, go ahead. Don’t let me keep you from work.” I noticed “Manager” on her phone, obviously work–related. 

After dropping me off and confirming my number, she mentioned a bidding conference. 

‘Go ahead. I’ll text you after my chemotherapy! I knew it was hard for Jade to attain the position, and I urged her to leave. 

She’d have been at the conference if it weren’t for my sudden message the day before. She repeatedly checked if I was okay before finally leaving. 

Alone during chemotherapy, the pain hit harder. My heart sank when I saw other patients as frail and pitiful as me. Maybe it was what watching life slip away felt like. 

After the session, everyone else had someone waiting. I was alone. 

The nurse, full of sympathy, suggested I rest a bit longer. But being alone in the hospital only made me feel worse, so I forced myself to leave. I’d never liked hospitals, too many bad memories, yet I couldn’t stay away. 

As I hurried out, I stumbled, falling forward. I instinctively grabbed for a helping hand, which pulled me back up. 

“Sorry, thanks. I lost my footing there.” Once steady, I looked up to find Vinson. 

“You here for a check–up? You don’t seem okay.” He eyed me, reaching for my medical records. 

I quickly hid them in my bag. “Just low blood sugar.” 

Seeing my pale face, Vinson seemed to believe me. He helped me sit and bought me a Coke. I sipped it, suppressing the nausea from chemotherapy. 

He seemed about to ask more, so I changed the subject. “What brings you here?” 

“A friend’s sick. Just visiting. And you?” His concern was evident. 

I fiddled with my hair, “Just feeling faint. The doctor said it’s low blood sugar.” 

Then, feeling my hair fall out, my heart sank. Was my hair starting to fall out already after 

just the second round of chemotherapy? 

Vinson seemed to be saying something, but I was deep in thought. 

He asked with worry again, “Melanie, what’s wrong?”