Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 96: Timothy Xavier Wants It in the Car
I instantly couldn’t sit still, hurriedly got up and said, "Madam Sinclair, it’s getting late, I still have things to do, so I’ll take my leave."
If I stay any longer, God knows what kind of misunderstandings will break out.
Besides, did Grandma tell Grandpa about what’s happening at The Kendall Family?
I have to go and clear things up.
Madam Sinclair was completely confused, "Zoe, why are you leaving so soon? Let Julian send you off!"
"No need, I drove here myself."
I replied hastily, not even daring to look Julian Sinclair in the eye.
But Julian still followed me out.
He walked with me to the car door and said, "I’ve already explained it to my mom. If you need me to help explain to Timothy Xavier, I can work with you. After all, it’s my grandma who stirred up all this trouble."
"No need."
I forced a smile, saying, "Goodbye, Uncle."
When I called him "Uncle," Julian’s brows furrowed tightly, but he didn’t say anything more.
On the road, I drove like a bat out of hell.
It was already past eight, but I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
Yet just as I arrived at The Kendall Gate, I happened to run into Timothy Xavier coming out.
He looked terrifyingly grim; I pretended I hadn’t seen him and walked straight inside.
But after barely two steps, he grabbed my wrist and, without a word, dragged me toward his car.
The car door slammed shut; he got in from the other side and shoved me hard onto the seat.
The man’s eyes were blazing with fury as he ground out, "Zoe Ellison, I’ve given you enough respect. You want time, fine, I gave it to you! But you? You’re playing the whole ’body in Xavier, heart in Sinclair’ game, aren’t you!"
"It’s not what you think! Madam Sinclair misunderstood—she..."
I hadn’t finished, when Timothy Xavier gripped my chin tightly, his voice vicious as he cut me off: "You’re cozying up to Julian Sinclair, and then letting that old bat come knocking to propose marriage! What do you take me for? You never intended to start over with me, did you?"
"Timothy, I’ll say it again—I knew nothing about this!"
I struggled to push him away, but his strength was frightening.
The man sneered, then suddenly reclined my seat, leaning over and pressing down on me.
"Maybe I’ve been too good to you—you’ve forgotten your place! Let me remind you: You’re a married woman!"
His hand tugged at my shirt, undoing the top two buttons; his eyes clouded by possessive, near-animal desire, as if he wanted to devour me.
"Timothy, you’re insane!"
I struggled in desperation, trying to avoid his touch.
But men and women are hardly a match in strength; in panic, I blurted out, "Does this make you worthy of Naomi Sawyer’s memory?"
Timothy Xavier suddenly froze.
He was already furious, but now that I’d struck his sore spot, you can imagine just how terrifying his eyes looked now.
I stared him down with defiant eyes, though my voice trembled uncontrollably: "Did you really love Naomi Sawyer? If you’re keeping her in your heart, how can you touch another woman without a care?"
Finally, he let go, sitting back in the driver’s seat like a hollowed-out shell.
The streetlamp outside cast his profile in cold relief; the man gripped the steering wheel tightly, saying word by word, "Zoe Ellison, you’re not fit to be Mrs. Xavier!"
"You’re right, I’m not."
I nodded, "Just do me a favor and divorce me, so I stop bringing disgrace to your Xavier Family."
With that, I pretty much ran from the car, stumbling to the curb to flag down a taxi.
I gave the driver The Kendall Family address, planning to go back and get my car.
I was still shaken by Timothy’s uncontrolled aggression in the car, my body trembling slightly.
When the taxi stopped outside The Kendall Gate, the house lights were already off.
I didn’t want to disturb them any further; besides, in my current state, it’s hardly appropriate to go inside.
So I drove back to my rental place outside.
The warm yellow light in the living room fell on the familiar wood floor, chasing away every bit of my chill.
I changed my shoes, feeling utterly drained, and collapsed into the sofa.
Thinking of what my therapist counseled me today, I suddenly wondered: could getting caught up in this actually be a blessing in disguise?
At least Timothy Xavier now understands we can’t go back.
Rather than try to start over, it’s better to have him hate me—maybe then he’ll agree to the divorce.
Before bed, I took the medication my therapist prescribed, and finally managed a decent night’s sleep.
...
The next day was the weekend—no work.
When I woke up, the Long Road to Marriage production group chat was already exploding with dozens of messages.
There were lead actors, producers, the director, and all sorts of other team members; normally, nobody chatted casually—they only discussed work.
I clicked in; the producer and other staff were volleying messages:
[Producer Vera Quincy: Just got the news—Xavier Group is investing in a new show for Serena Sawyer, with nearly the same subject and style as Long Road to Marriage. They’re obviously coming for us!]
[Director Simon Hollis: That’s not all—I hear the crew is already set up, production started quietly.]
[Lead actress Raina Ainsworth: Timothy’s generosity is something else—threw 200 million at Serena Sawyer’s project.]
[Vera Quincy @Raina: Is this the time for jokes? Do you know who’s writing Serena Sawyer’s script? Maxine Hawthorne! Ring a bell?]
Instantly, the chat went quiet.
Maxine Hawthorne used to be a pioneering legend in online romance fiction; started writing at sixteen. Now, she’s already transitioned to a famous TV screenwriter.
Then Raina dropped Serena Sawyer’s X link in the group.
Serena was still the type who couldn’t keep her mouth shut—always dying to show off before anything even started.
She posted a picture of herself reading the script, captioned: Partnership with Long Road to Marriage canceled, new drama Marriage Heart in development. Thanks to my dream man for being my strongest support, @Xavier Group official account.
Since Timothy Xavier doesn’t have a personal X account, Serena simply tagged the Xavier Group official, making it clear to the whole world just how much Timothy dotes on her.
The comment section was already wild:
"Of course Sis wasn’t going to be a side character! Raina Ainsworth, who is that anyway? Why should Sis play second to her?"
"That author for Long Road to Marriage is just a nobody—never even heard the pen name. How can she compete with prodigy Maxine Hawthorne? Every Maxine project aims straight for blockbuster status!"
"Serena, you’re the best! Don’t be afraid of the gossip—we’ll always support you!"
"..."
I exited X, no mood to keep scrolling.
Then came the urgent notice from the production team for a meeting.
Producer Vera asked me to come to the office immediately.
...
Inside the office.
Vera Quincy held the revised outline, telling me, "After our team’s discussion, if we use the same setup as Maxine Hawthorne’s, we’re doomed. The drama will flop and we’ll lose everything. So, you need to hurry and revise the original. Maxine’s script makes the second male lead win; you change ours to make the main leads reunite. Otherwise, before we even air, haters will say we’re copying."
Reunion after a breakup?
How ironic.
I said, "Vera, this goes against the original intention of my book. The original has the leads grow separately after breaking up, and in the end they part with dignity—that’s what I wanted. If we force them back together, the characters will fall apart. Plus, I checked—Maxine’s novel was published after mine. If anyone’s copying, it’s not me copying her."
Vera sighed, tried to patiently convince me: "Fine, let’s not talk about who’s copying whom. But reconciliation is the current trend—audiences eat this stuff up. If writing was just a hobby, fine, but investors can’t lose everything, right? You know how big Maxine is! This time they’re gunning for us. If you don’t want to change it, you’ll have to talk to the big boss yourself."
I knew the top boss behind the show was Julian Sinclair.
But The Sinclair Group is so gigantic that Julian deals in billion-dollar decisions and spends half his time in court as a lawyer—he can’t possibly have the energy to manage a tiny company like ours.
Besides, I didn’t want to keep getting tangled up with Julian Sinclair.
I was silent for a moment, then asked, "Any other way out? If I won’t change the story?"
Vera replied gravely, "Unless you can get top star Ian Sterling onboard. Right now his popularity is number one in the industry—bigger than Raina or Serena combined. But he’s at his peak, and his rates are sky-high. It used to be easier, but with the competition so fierce, the investment risk is too great—I can’t go ask HQ for more funding."
"What’s his rate?" I asked.
Vera replied, "Last show, heard it was two million per episode."
I sucked in a sharp breath—entertainment really is easy money.
Vera seemed to think I’d lost heart and patted my shoulder, "Money’s one thing, but Ian’s not easy to get. Zoe, give up—just follow what we decided at the meeting, change the story. Just get it done, there’s still some time."
It’s not impossible to rewrite, but the thought of having to reunite with someone like Timothy Xavier turns my stomach.
If this drama airs, the message I’d be sending is that even after a woman’s been hurt, she should forgive without boundaries or conditions, and go back to the jerk for the sake of family or the kids.
Wouldn’t more women, thanks to this show, choose to be buried alive in warped marriages forever?
After a moment’s silence, I made up my mind: "I’ll pay for it! But I’m not changing the script."
Even I was surprised as the words left my mouth.
Vera looked at me in disbelief, eyes wide with shock.
"I can invest."
Funny how things work out—the money Timothy gave me as repayment for nursing him in the hospital, it’s just about enough now.
Vera sobered, warning me, "You sure? If this tanks, you’ll..."
"If I lose it, that’s on me."
I picked up a pen and drew a big cross on Vera’s revised outline.
Seeing my resolve, Vera nodded, "Alright. I’ll get legal to draft a contract. You go prep your funds. As for Ian Sterling... I’ve worked with him before. Let me reach out, feel him out."
In half a day, I got the funding together—a total of thirty million.
In the company meeting room, I signed my name on the equity agreement.
Vera chuckled, "From now on, you’re officially a shareholder of this drama. Boss Zoe!"
Her tone might have been joking, but actually, our mood was anything but light.
Everything had been going smoothly; our crew was one of the best in the whole business.
No one expected Timothy Xavier to barrel in and create this mess.
He might not know I’m the author behind this show, but his intention to boost Serena Sawyer is obvious as hell.
Just then, my phone rang—it was Madam Sinclair.
I hesitated, then answered.
Madam Sinclair’s voice was full of apology: "Zoe, last night Julian explained things to me. I’ve been feeling awful about it. Do you have time tonight? Come over—Grandma wants to apologize to you."
"Grandma, you don’t need to worry, and you definitely don’t need to apologize. I should’ve been clear about my marriage earlier, so you wouldn’t have misunderstood."
Madam Sinclair said, "If you don’t come, I’ll think you’re mad at me. Where do you work? I’ll come looking for you."
I really had no choice—didn’t want her braving the cold at her age—so I replied, "Okay, I’ll drop by later."
...
The Sinclair home.
When I arrived, Julian Sinclair was there too.
He must have just come in; deep gray coat still on, tie a little loose, sleeves rolled up—relaxed, yet still so dignified.
He saw me come in and showed no surprise, clearly Madam Sinclair had told him.
"Come eat!"
His tone was so casual and natural that for a moment I almost felt like I was part of this family.
During dinner, Madam Sinclair kept replaying yesterday’s mess.
The more she talked, the worse she felt, almost breaking down in tears by the end. "Grandma’s just gotten old and senile—how could I... land you in such a jam? Julian’s your uncle now, and I’ve... totally mixed up the generations. What a farce!"
Julian ate calmly, occasionally coaxing her a bit.
I can’t stand seeing old people cry, so I tried my best to comfort her.
Finally, Madam Sinclair calmed down, but then she looked at me, all tenderness and pity.
"Such a good girl—how did you end up marrying a man like that?"
She said indignantly, "Don’t think just because I’m old I don’t keep up with TikTok! Serena Sawyer gets official notices criticizing her, yet she’s always showing up—hiding behind Timothy Xavier’s name without a shred of self-respect! Look, today she’s at it again, boasting that Timothy invested in her new drama..."
Madam Sinclair kept ranting, but Julian Sinclair suddenly cut in, voice cold and detached: "Grandma, you worry too much! Couples fight on one side of the bed and make up on the other. Outsiders like us shouldn’t meddle."
I felt a chill crawl down my spine—strangely uneasy.
I could only bow my head, silently eating my rice.
Madam Sinclair thought she’d upset me and quickly said, "Zoe, Grandma didn’t mean it that way, really... Women like Serena Sawyer were kept as mistresses in the old days—she’s not even a proper concubine, totally beneath dignity!"
Julian looked at her, exasperated, "Enough already. Just drop it. You think she’s to be pitied, but maybe she’s loving it."
I kept silent, but Julian’s thinly veiled jabs made my chest feel tight.
After dinner, I helped Madam Sinclair upstairs to rest.
She held my hand, chattering away. When I went downstairs, Julian was still in the living room.
He lounged on the sofa reading a finance magazine; his hand gripped the page, his profile striking under the glow of the lamp.
I tiptoed as lightly as I could, trying not to disturb him, making my way to the door.
"Leaving?" he suddenly asked, still not looking up from the magazine.
I stopped, clutching my bag awkwardly. "Mm, it’s getting late."
But after two steps, his voice came from behind: "Heard Long Road to Marriage ran into trouble?"
My back stiffened—I didn’t turn around.
"If you need help..."
He turned another page, his tone unreadable. "Just say so."
