My Husband Hated Me for a Lie

Chapter 2

In the final days before his departure, Tyler wanted to spend as much time as possible with Mrs. Roberson.

She had always treated him with unwavering kindness. As an orphan, he had long since come to regard her as his own mother.

When Tyler returned home, Mrs. Roberson offered no words of reproach. Instead, her voice was thick with nothing but heartache and concern for him.

As the two sat eating breakfast, Alena walked in. The bandages around her abdomen were faintly visible beneath her shirt, tinged with a fresh, lingering stain of red.

Tyler acted as if she were invisible. He merely turned to Mrs. Roberson and whispered, "Mom, I'm going upstairs."

He then retreated to Noah's room.

Since the accident involving their son, he had stayed there constantly, seeking the fading comfort of Noah's presence.

Alena followed him close behind.

Standing in the doorway, she watched Tyler gently stroke a photograph of Noah on the nightstand. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, as if afraid to shatter the silence. "Tyler... what if we went abroad for a bit? Just a vacation. It might help you clear your head."

Tyler didn't move. He didn't offer so much as a flicker of a response.

Alena let out a heavy sigh and took a step forward. "I know it hurts, I really do. But life has to go on. We're still young... we can have other kids."

"Alena..." A voice drifted from the doorway, tentative and familiar. It was Luke.

Alena's expression stiffened. When she turned to face him, her tone sharpened instantly. "What are you doing here?"

Luke held a delicate gift bag, his face a mask of guilt. His voice was intentionally soft, adopting a posture of deep regret. "I came to apologize to Tyler. "I feel like this is all my fault. If it weren't for me—"

"If you know it's your fault, then stay the hell away from me! What? Do you want to see what it feels like to get stabbed, too?"

Tyler interrupted, turning slowly to face him. His eyes were hollow, devoid of any emotion.

Luke's eyes instantly reddened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to speak. Before he could utter another word, Alena instinctively stepped forward, shielding Luke with her body. She looked at Tyler with a trace of exasperation.

"Tyler, stop it. Luke is a victim here, too. What happened to Noah wasn't his fault, and he's just trying to be the bigger person by coming here."

Tyler watched her, watched the way she reflexively protected the man. Deep down, he felt nothing but a cold sense of mockery and exhaustion.

Disinclined to waste any more time on them, he looked up, his cold gaze sweeping over the two as he enunciated every word: "Get out!"

Alena looked at his resolute expression, wanting to say more, but it ultimately dissolved into a heavy sigh. "Just get some rest first," she murmured.

With that, she took Luke by the arm and quietly closed the door behind them as they left.

Silence reclaimed the room. Tyler's gaze fell once more upon the photograph of Noah. The frost in his eyes finally began to thaw, replaced by a well of endless grief.

By noon, a soft knock came at the door.

When Tyler opened it, he was surprised to find Luke standing there.

"Mrs. Roberson wants you downstairs for lunch," Luke said, his eyes swirling with disdain. He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Honestly, Tyler, have you no shame? You stabbed Alena and you're still hanging around here?"

Leaning against the doorframe, Tyler retorted with a chilling stare, "Alena and I are married. You're the ex-boyfriend who won't stop lurking in someone else's house. Who's the embarrassing one here?"

The words struck a nerve. Luke's face flushed with rage, but just as he was about to lash out, he caught a glimpse of the staircase. A flicker of calculation crossed his eyes.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper, "Tyler, I'm going to show you exactly who Alena really cares about."

Before the words had even fully landed, Luke suddenly dropped to one knee. He braced himself with one hand against the floor while the other clutched his abdomen tightly. Veins popped on his forehead as he let out a stifled groan through gritted teeth. "Ugh—"

Alena came rushing over, shoving Tyler aside as he stood in the doorway. Her voice was thick with panic. "Luke! What happened? Are you okay?"

Caught off guard, Tyler was thrown against the doorframe. A sharp, searing pain instantly shot through his forehead.

Luke curled on the ground, his body trembling slightly. When he looked up, his face was deathly pale and his lips were colorless. His voice sounded strained, as if forced through his teeth, "Alena... it's fine. Don't get mad at him... it was my fault..."

Alena reached down, grabbing him by the waist and draping his arm over her shoulder. She half-carried, half-dragged him toward the stairs in a frantic rush. Not once did she look back at Tyler, who sat slumped by the door with blood trickling down his face.

Clutching his bleeding forehead, Tyler sat on the cold floor. His vision blurred from the pain, but the chill in his heart was far more agonizing than any physical wound.