You're Just My Ex-Husband,My Lord-Chapter 56- blind

Looking at Clark, who was still struggling and screaming on the bed, Dave felt deeply unsettled. He instructed the nurse,

"If anything happens, call me. I’m leaving now."

Then he quickly walked out.

In the past, every time he visited, he would sit for a while, comforting Clark or keeping her company, hoping to help her recover sooner.

The sooner Clark recovered, the sooner he felt he would be free.

When Clark first returned, her emotional state had been very poor, and she had become terribly thin. She cried all night, talking about suicide and similar things, so he had to stay with her.

But this time, he didn’t know why, but he just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

He thought that perhaps it was because he had been feeling down lately—there’s no one who’s in a good mood after a divorce, even if it was from a marriage that had long lost its willingness to continue. Moreover, the end of this marriage had been such a passive experience for him.

After Dave left, and the nurse followed, Clark, who had been lying in bed with her eyes closed, suddenly opened them wide. Her gaze was clear and sharp, devoid of any madness or hysteria.

She first curled the corners of her lips into a cold smile, then got out of bed, walked over to the window, and stood behind the heavy curtains, watching Dave drive away from the house.

He certainly hadn’t realized that the scandal about his extramarital affair had nothing to do with Bert—it had all been orchestrated by her.

But just now, with her act of feigning madness, she had worked hard to distance herself from any connection to Bert. She was confident that he no longer suspected her, and she had successfully pinned the blame on Bert.

This wasn’t her fault.

Originally, she hadn’t planned it this way. She had intentionally leaked information about her close relationship with Dave to the media, hoping to force him to publicly admit their divorce and acknowledge her identity as Clark.

She hadn’t expected the scandal to explode and affect his current project bidding. Only after the news broke did she realize how much it had damaged his standing in the project.

Then, she remembered how Bert had handled Daniel five years ago and decided to use the same tactic. She took advantage of the situation to pour dirty water on Bert, exacerbating the conflict between him and Dave, hoping to make Dave focus on dealing with Bert.

Yes, she wasn’t crazy.

But every day, she had to act crazy and play the fool.

What else could she do if she didn’t?

If she didn’t act crazy, could she escape from Bert’s clutches?

If she didn’t act crazy, would she earn his sympathy? Could she win him back?

If she didn’t act crazy, could she use his power to fight back against Bert and destroy him?

Everything she did was for revenge, and to win Dave back.

She hated everyone, except for Dave.

She hated Bert, hated how Bert had deceived her and ruined her life.

She also hated Daniel, hated how he forced her to break up with Dave, hated how he forced her into a relationship with that scoundrel Bert.

She’d heard Tiffany was also going through a divorce with Daniel recently, and she was feeling quite pleased about it. Wasn’t this Daniel’s punishment?

She hated Laurent even more, hated how Laurent took Dave away from her, hated how she married him, and hated how she bore him children!

Yet she would never be able to have children again in this lifetime.

During her years with Bert, he had forced her to abort their child three times, causing irreparable damage to her womb, and now she could never have children again.

Bert was a complete beast. At first, she had thought him gentle and refined, but slowly, she realized his cruel and bloodthirsty nature.

He could even scheme against his own biological father—what else was he capable of?

Thinking of those dark memories, her hand clenched the nearby curtain tightly, but because her wrist had been injured, she couldn’t exert much force, and her hand trembled as it clutched the fabric.

She looked at her wrist and suddenly screamed in furious, hysterical anger.

The nurse outside heard her and rushed in. She took the opportunity to collapse onto the floor, allowing the nurse to help her up and put her back on the bed to lie down again.

Sometimes, she didn’t even know whether she was truly going insane or just pretending.

After having lunch with her daughter Lilian, Tiffany took a thermos filled with soup to the hospital.

Daniel had been sitting in the hospital room, feeling hopeless. He had waited for a long time and thought that she really had been so heartless as to abandon him to die.

But when he suddenly saw her appear, he was in disbelief.

"Ah... Tiffany?"

"You... you..."

Tiffany’s expression was calm.

"You said you wanted some soup, didn’t you?"

Daniel quickly nodded after realizing, chuckling,

"Well, after getting sick, I just can’t stop craving."

He intentionally brought up his illness, hoping to elicit Tiffany’s sympathy.

Tiffany didn’t say anything. She silently ladled the soup for him and handed him the bowl.

Daniel took it and drank it in large gulps.

Tiffany didn’t just bring him soup. She had also brought all the dishes from her and Lilian’s lunch. She arranged each dish neatly on the small table beside the bed, and Daniel eagerly began eating.

Tiffany sat quietly beside him, not looking at Daniel or checking her phone, but gazing out of the window.

Meanwhile, Daniel continued to eat, his gaze never leaving her face.

With her innate elegance, her refined upbringing, and the wisdom accumulated through age and experience, Tiffany exuded the grace of orchids, gentle and pure like jade, leaving a lasting, pleasant impression on anyone who saw her.

Daniel stared at her in a daze. He couldn’t understand how, in the first few years of their marriage, he had ignored such a woman and run off to meet with that mother and son.

He must have been blind.

At first, Daniel thought that Bert’s mother, enduring the immense psychological pressure of being criticized by others, must have truly loved him for giving birth to their son.

But later, he gradually realized that what that mother and son truly wanted wasn’t just him, Daniel. They were after the Washington family, and as he became deeply disappointed, he began to distance himself from them.

Of course, even after distancing himself, he still had no choice but to continue supporting them. He was, after all, a father and couldn’t bear to see his flesh and blood suffering on their own.

When Daniel had nearly finished eating, Tiffany withdrew her gaze from the window and lowered her head. She took a document from her handbag and handed it to Daniel. Her tone was calm:

"This is the divorce agreement. I’ve already signed it. Please have a look, and if there’s no problem, just sign it."

Daniel, still immersed in the joy of her visiting and bringing him food, had not expected such a painful blow.

He sat there, stunned for a long while, unable to regain his composure. Tiffany continued speaking:

"If you don’t want to read it, I can summarize it for you."

"The children are already grown. As for custody, I won’t fight with you. Let them choose for themselves."

"As for the property, my demand is simple: you must give me what’s rightfully mine, not a penny less, and I will give everything to Dave."

When Tiffany said this, a trace of mockery flashed across her face.

"Because I don’t want the foundation my father helped build to fall into someone else’s hands, and I don’t want my son, who worked hard all his life, to someday end up working for someone else. So, I have to fight for it."

Daniel’s face turned uncomfortable and awkward.

He knew exactly what Tiffany meant by her words. She was saying that she feared one day he might give the Washington family to that mother and son, which is why she was fighting so hard for the assets.

How could that ever happen!

If Daniel had planned to hand over the Washington family to that mother and son, why would he have forced Dave to choose the company in the first place?

So, he tried to explain forcefully:

"I won’t give them a single cent of Washington’s assets!"

He had already done enough by setting up a company for Bert. As for running it, that was Bert’s problem to deal with.

But Tiffany didn’t believe a word he said.

"What’s the use of what you’re saying now? Maybe one day someone will be tricked by that mother and son and change their mind, giving the company to someone else."

Daniel was about to say something more, but Tiffany, already holding her bag, stood up to leave.

"Alright, take your time looking through it. If you have any objections, just contact my lawyer directly."

She was about to walk away when Daniel, in a panic, reached out and grabbed her.

"Tiffany, don’t do this. Look at me, I’m in such poor health, hospitalized like this. How can you have the heart to bring up a divorce now?"

Tiffany turned back to look at him and smiled lightly.

"I’m very clear on your health. I’ve seen your annual check-up reports; you’re perfectly healthy, so..."

Tiffany stopped speaking at that point, not revealing that she knew he was faking his illness, but Daniel was already deeply embarrassed. He thought he could fool her, but clearly, he couldn’t.

Tiffany tried to leave again. Daniel, now knowing she had seen through his act, decided there was no point in pretending any longer. He got out of bed and grabbed her, not letting her go.

"I don’t agree to the divorce, and I won’t accept any of your conditions!"

Tiffany continued to smile,

"Looks like you still want to enjoy the life of a man with two wives after all these years, but sorry, I’m not going to cooperate anymore."

After saying this, Tiffany quickly wrenched her hand free from his grasp and left without hesitation.

Daniel was deeply hurt by her words, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

Just the phrase "man with two wives," filled with mockery, was enough to make him ache with regret—regret for not cherishing the good woman who had been in his life all along.

Standing there in the hospital room, Daniel looked defeated, his face ashen. He stood motionless, not knowing what to do next.