A Dark Revenge On My Cheating Husband Chapter 10
He remembered that three days ago, when he left home, this thing was not there.
A strange chill quietly crept up his spine.
He put down the bottle, walked over step by step, and carefully unsealed the envelope.
The first document slid out-a divorce decree.
Xzavier’s hand suddenly trembled, and the document fell to the floor.
He crouched down to pick it up, his hands shaking as he opened it.
The photo of him and Madeleine was still there, only now a cold cancellation stamp was pressed between them.
“The cooling-off period has passed. Neither party was present, so it is considered a voluntary divorce…”
He read those words, each one stabbing into his eyes like a needle.
How could this be?
He clearly hadn’t signed anything…
A memory suddenly flashed: in the hospital room, he had thrown the share transfer agreement to her, and she signed it without a word.
Then, she handed him a document as well, and he signed it without even looking…
So, that was the divorce agreement.
So, she had planned to leave all along.
There was a second item in the envelope-a medical report.
His medical report, from the private hospital he often visited three months ago.
On the last page, in the diagnosis section, it read: “Suspicious lesion found in the stomach. Further biopsy recommended. Be alert for possible early cancerous changes.”
A sticky note was attached to the edge of the report, the familiar handwriting stinging his eyes: “Final reminder, take care.”
It was Madeleine’s handwriting.
Xzavier collapsed onto the carpet, the divorce decree and medical report scattered around him.
Leaning against the cold sofa, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Madeleine… really didn’t want him anymore.
His phone vibrated. It was a message from Daniela: “Zavy, you haven’t come to see me for days. I’m scared, those reporters are always downstairs… Can you come and stay with me?”
In the past, seeing a message like this, he would have dropped everything and rushed over immediately.
But now, Xzavier stared at the screen and, for the first time, didn’t reply.
It rained all night.
Xzavier sat on the carpet all night, until the morning light slipped through the blinds, illuminating the cancellation stamp on the divorce decree.
He slowly got up, his legs so numb they were almost useless.
Walking into the bathroom, the person in the mirror looked so haggard he was almost unrecognizable-bloodshot eyes, stubble darkening his jaw, as if he had aged ten years overnight.
“Xzavier, you can’t collapse.” He spoke to his reflection, his voice hoarse. “The company still needs you.”
But as soon as he said this, he suddenly remembered the looks in those people’s eyes at the meeting-that wasn’t need, it was blame.
He splashed water on his face, forcing himself to calm down.
The divorce was final, the threat of cancer hung over him, but right now he had more urgent matters to deal with.
At that moment, his phone rang. It was a call from the hospital.
“Mr. Kenward, your biopsy results are ready. If possible, we recommend you come to the hospital as soon as you can.”
Xzavier hung up the phone and steadied himself against the wall as he stood.
He looked up at the sky, some of the dark clouds had parted, revealing a small patch of pale blue.
What must be faced, must be faced.
Whether it was cancer, or the disaster he had brought upon himself.
An hour later, in the hospital consultation room.
The doctor pointed at the shadow on the CT scan, his tone serious: “Mr. Kenward, the biopsy confirms early-stage stomach cancer. Fortunately, it was detected early, so the success rate for surgery is high. But you need to be admitted to the hospital immediately for comprehensive preoperative examinations and treatment.”
