Chapter 9
My peaceful mood from earlier instantly plummeted.
I stubbornly remained silent, which only made Jameson more impatient. He reached out to grab me.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled loudly.
My outburst drew the attention of the patients waiting to see the doctor. Their eyes were fixed on us like they were waiting to watch some drama unfold.
Jameson's expression darkened further. He stepped closer and threatened me in a lowered voice. "Come with me. We'll talk at home."
I took a step back and refused loudly. "No!"
Jameson's gaze turned even more menacing. "Wynonna, you've grown bold! Do you want me to stop caring about you?" His voice was raised and full of threat.
I turned my head away. "Great. I don't need you anyway."
He wanted to grab me but froze when his hand touched the bandages on my shoulder. That was when he seemed to realize what he had done earlier.
His tone softened. "I admit I was careless before and hurt you. It's natural for you to be angry. But I was only trying to help you. Come home with me, okay?"
I didn't respond, and the corners of my lips raised in disdain.
Jameson waited for my reply. When none came, his frown deepened.
It was clear that Jameson had given me an opportunity to make amends. According to what Chloe had told me, if it were me in the past, he wouldn't even have had to apologize; I would have already cried and forgiven him on the spot.
And clearly, he expected me to take that step and let things slide, just as I always had.
But I wasn't the same Wynonna Lambert as back then. I wasn't that woman who had no self-respect in the face of love. I was done with being treated badly, only to be offered pathetic comfort right after.
My silence enraged Jameson. He laughed coldly. "Fine, Wynonna. Don't bother coming home. Let's see who in this city is willing to take you in!"
I replied with indifference. "That's none of your concern, Mr. Brown."
Jameson suddenly leaned in closer; his low and chilling voice sent shivers down my spine. "Don't regret this, Wynonna. Let's see how long you can keep up this bravado."
Looking into his eyes, I saw nothing but empty coldness.
So this was my husband, whom I had loved so deeply? My husband that I had been willing to die to keep?
At that moment, my heart felt colder than a winter's night.
"Mr. Brown?" A gentle voice cut through the tension between us.
Jameson narrowed his eyes at Tristan, who was holding the medical receipt in his hand.
His tone changed, and he spoke in a deep voice. "Mr. Zook, I'm sorry you had to witness this. My wife's behavior today was… unfortunate."
He sighed, and the silent condemnation almost made my pent-up anger explode.
Tristan approached us and said calmly, "Mr. Brown, you're overreacting. Wyn is like a sister to me. If someone bullied her, I would have to step in as her big brother."
Jameson looked as shocked as me. He glanced between me and Tristan. Then, he pointed toward me and asked with a confused tone, "Mr. Zook, you know her?"
Tristan nodded slightly. "Yes, I know her. And we're quite close."
Jameson's disbelief was written all over his face.
I instinctively moved behind Tristan and let him shield me from Jameson.
As Jameson was about to speak again, Tristan took my hand and spoke softly. "Dr. Johnson mentioned that you shouldn't move your shoulder too much. And don't forget the MRI scan for your head tomorrow."
Jameson suddenly interrupted Tristan's detailed instructions. "Mr. Zook, don't let her fool you. She's not sick."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Tristan shot him a sharp look. The warmth in Tristan's eyes was replaced by a sudden coldness, and the temperature of the atmosphere dropped.
Jameson was startled by the change in Tristan's demeanor, and his eyes immediately darkened.
Tristan stared into Jameson's eyes and spoke slowly. "Mr. Brown, she's your wife. Instead of checking on her injuries, your first instinct is to accuse her of lying. That's not appropriate, is it?"
Jameson hadn't expected Tristan to stand up for me. He couldn't take being shamed like that and scoffed, "Mr. Zook, you're a prominent figure. I didn't realize you were so concerned about my wife. What happens between us is a family matter, and it's none of your business."
He emphasized his tone when he mentioned "family matter".
Tristan smiled faintly and adjusted his glasses. "You're right. But I'll remind you that Dr. Johnson's medical diagnosis is right here. It won't lie to you. Besides, how will you explain to Wyn's brother about her injuries?"
He watched as Jameson's expression gradually became darker and added, "Even if Charles doesn't want to acknowledge Wyn, she's still the only daughter of the Lambert family."
Jameson's expression changed. He looked at me and commanded in a cold voice, "Wynonna, come home with me."
I could see the last of his patience draining away.
Before, the old me would have caved by now and followed him home without question. But at that moment, all I wanted was to get as far away from this bastard as possible.
I turned my head and tugged on Tristan's sleeve. "Mr. Zook, let's go."
Before Tristan could respond, my arm was suddenly grabbed by a strong force. I turned around in shock.
Jameon's gaze was sharp enough to kill. He pulled me into his arms and held me tightly around my waist.
Then, he tossed a final remark at Tristan in an icy tone. "Thanks for your help today, Mr. Zook. I'll treat you to dinner sometime. Until next time."
After saying that, he dragged me away forcefully.
I turned my head to look at Tristan standing there, his hand still holding the receipt. I couldn't see his expression clearly, but for some reason, I sensed disappointment.
…
Jameson didn't let go of me until we reached the parking lot. As soon as he released me, I spun around and headed for the elevator.
"Wynonna!" he shouted angrily. "Take another step, and I'll break your leg."
I laughed sarcastically. "Thanks to you, Mr. Brown, I nearly had my arm broken. And now you want to break my leg?"
I walked up to him, staring him straight in the eyes. "Go ahead! If you don't break my leg today, you're no man."
I fully expected Jameson to hit me, and I had prepared myself for the blow.
Suddenly, a soft voice interrupted from behind. "Jameson, how can you talk to Ms. Lambert like that?"
I froze.
Peering around Jameson, I noticed Xandra sitting in his car. She gracefully stepped out of the car and walked over to stand between us.
I smiled mockingly. "Mr. Brown, you really are something. You bring Xandra everywhere."
Jameson looked slightly uncomfortable. "Xandra has a rehearsal at the theater. I'm just giving her a ride on the way," he muttered an excuse.
I laughed in a more mocking tone.
Jameson seemed irritated by my laughter and was about to lash out.
Suddenly, Xandra gently held his hand and spoke sincerely. "Ms. Lambert, I insisted on following Jameson today. I was worried about you after hearing you were hurt."
The sight of them holding hands together there felt surreal.
Regardless of whether Jameson and Xandra really had an affair, in all the memories I had of my 18 years, I had never seen a mistress acting so boldly in love with the husband right in front of the wife.
Was she trying to get a reaction out of me?
I took out my phone and snapped a picture of them.