Chapter 63 Tangled in Pride and Pain
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Trevor flung Josh’s hand away with a sharp motion. Josh staggered back a few steps, struggling to regain his balance.
Summer stood there, utterly speechless at the scene unfolding before her. She had not done anything, yet this Dr. Josh looked ready to come at her with fists raised. Whether Trevor was genuinely trying to protect her, she better find a way to save herself instead of relying on Trevor.
Summer pulled out her phone, switched on the camera, and aimed it at them. “Josh, if you dare lay a finger on me, I’ll send this video straight to your hospital. Let’s see if they suspend your medical license.
Josh’s gaze snapped toward Summer. Red veins crawled through his eyes, rage simmering just beneath the surface.
This woman… she was poisonous. Nothing about her could compare to Peyton.
Josh truly could not understand what Trevor saw in someone like her.
But then he caught sight of Trevor’s expression. That cold, dangerous aura seemed to darken the air around him. A sharp gleam flickered deep within those eyes.
Josh’s breath hitched. A chill crept over him. For a moment, he was afraid. He took a deep breath and turned to Peyton with his voice dropped low. “Peyton, if anyone bullies you… call me. I’ll be right outside the door.”
Then Josh finally turn and leave the room.
Once more, there were only three people left in the room.
Peyton sat on one end of the sofa, delicate and pitiful, her fragile frame seeming to shrink into itself.
On the other side of the room, Trevor and Summer stood facing each other.
Trevor’s lips were pressed into a thin, rigid line. His brows furrowed tightly, and he stared at Summer.
Ever since that day since he had stormed out of the bridal shop in a haze of confusion and anger, he hadn’t been the same. By day, he buried himself in relentless work. By night, he drowned himself in alcohol, as though the bitter burn could numb the thoughts that clawed at him.
But it never worked.
Every time his mind wandered back to Summer and remembered that her first time was no longer his to claim. A fire blazed in his chest. Rage. Disgust. Guilt. A tangle of emotions he could not begin to untie.
And yet, another memory haunted him.
The marks on her skin that day in the bridal shop. The way she had used them like a weapon to stab at his pride.
Summer had once been tainted by those kidnappers. He had forced himself to accept that. But now… was she willfully throwing herself at other men as well?
Just imagining it made Trevor feel like his dianity his pride ne
2 mon had heen trampled heneath her feet
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Chapter 63 Tangled in Pride and Pain
These past few days, the fury in his bones had been building, no outlet, no relief.
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And now, seeing her again, and she was still wearing that cold, indifferent expression, something inside him finally snapped.
His voice was low and cutting, each word a deliberate blow. “The hot water on Peyton… was it you who threw
it?”
Summer let out a soft laugh; her tone was light. “And what if I say no?”
Peyton’s heart jolted. She had gone through so much, and she had even hurt herself to make this look convincing. If Trevor said he believed in Summer, all her efforts would be wasted.
Peyton forced a tremble into her voice, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Summer, what are you saying? Are you suggesting I poured boiling water on myself? I wasn’t going to hold it against you. So why would you still accuse me?”
Trevor ignored Peyton for the moment. His eyes never left Summer. “Summer, was it you or not?”
Summer could feel the fury radiating from him, simmering just beneath the surface like a storm about to break. She could not help but let out a cold laugh.
“Trevor,” she said slowly, her tone was cold, “what exactly are you so hung up on?”
Trevor’s eyes reddened instantly, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might crack. “What I’m hung up on?” he hissed.
He was hung up on the fact that her first time had not been with him.
He was hung up on the idea that, lately, she might have been throwing herself at some random man just to spite him.
He was hung up on her body no longer being clean in his eyes.
It ate away at him. Drove him mad.
Trevor felt like a fool, wearing a green hat that symbolizes infidelity!
And yet, Summer showed not the slightest hint of regret, and she acted as if none of it was her fault.
He wanted nothing more than to drag her back, scrub her clean, erase every mark of every man who was not him. But deep down, he knew… some of this was his fault, too.
He forced in a breath, his voice lower, struggling for control. “This time,” he said, “if you tell me it wasn’t you, I’ll believe you.”
Peyton’s face drained of color, her mind reeling.
What?
She had scalded herself with boiling water, gone through so much pain to pull this off, and yet, Trevor was still willing to believe Summer?
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Summer’s gaze swept over Trevor’s face, his expression as dark and terrifying as a brewing storm, then flicked to Peyton’s devastated look of disbelief.
Her own expression remained distant, as calm and indifferent as still water. And when she spoke again, her voice was cool, almost emotionless. “Believe whatever you want.”
She had not done it. So why did it matter whether he believed her or not?
Summer realized, in that moment, that she no longer loved Trevor.
His trust, or lack of it, had nothing to do with her anymore.
Why should she care what he believed? Was she supposed to be like her old self again, desperately trying to earn points in his heart, fighting for a shred of approval?
What a fool she had been. And Summer was not going to be that fool ever again.
Summer never bothered to spare them another glance. She turned on her heel, she was ready to leave.
Trevor stared at her back, at her cold indifference, at the way she acted like he no longer mattered. Like she could just walk away. The fire that had been simmering in his chest roared to life all at once.
In a flash, he reached out and grabbed her wrist tight.
“Summer,” he growled, his voice low and sharp, seething with rage, “you’re not leaving.”
Summer’s anger flared instantly as well, her patience snapping like brittle glass.
Enough was enough! This damned man. He never knew his own strength when he grabbed her. And it was always the wrist.
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