After Declaring Divorce, My Husband Became Lewd - CHAPTER 6_ The Truth We Face (Part 6)

Locking herself in her room with her heart broken didn’t make what had already happened any less true. The same was true for the child.

Looking back, she never deliberately chose the direction of her life or stood against unfair treatment. Whether it was Timogere’s assault, marriage to Richt, or Diana’s divorce proposal.

Living passively, pushed along by the flow of life in the given circumstances, she never had to make decisions or fiercely oppose anything and stand up for herself. But now, there was a child to take responsibility for.

She couldn’t continue to ignore the life inside her like a withering flower she couldn’t turn away from. She had to separate the child from the hurt she’d received from Richt, and she had to be strong.

Just because he hovered around her, never leaving, was no reason to avoid him. The Blanchette House was her home, and he was the one who had to leave.

With all her might, Isabelle made it clear that he was no longer a meaningful part of her life. The day after she effectively confronted him rather than avoiding the situation and suggested that they might need to go their separate ways, Richt left Blanchette.

Whether it was truly urgent or he understood Isabelle’s words, he did not show his face as requested. For quite a while.

There was no longer the daily annoyance of seeing him constantly in front of her door, the shameless face that caused trouble and only complained about his grievances. Her words telling him to leave were undoubtedly sincere, but why did an uneasy feeling linger? It wasn’t a sense of relief or satisfaction.

In the bedroom where he used to stay, now only Isabelle remained. Unpleasantly, his scent seemed to linger from somewhere. Wondering if it was the scent of the countless love affairs they had shared, she changed the bedding in the room. She threw away every little item that had been touched by his hands.

After erasing all traces of him, his voice pierced her eardrums this time.

‘We didn’t know each other’s hearts and feelings well. We need to unravel this tangled mess.’

He made things worse, and now he comes back and says it was all a misunderstanding. Selfish.

‘I love you.’

Such a lame confession.

It wasn’t sweet at all, but for some reason, that word kept replaying in her head, haunting her. She blocked her ears to the endlessly repetitive confessions.

I couldn’t be wavering. No, it can’t be. I hate him, I hate him, I’m angry with him……. Yes, it’s anger.

She defined the identity of the churning emotion and made up her mind. Only then did it seem like her breath was somewhat relieved.

Isabelle looked down at her lower abdomen. It was hard to believe there was life inside. Her stomach was flat and she couldn’t feel anything when she touched it. Pregnancy was more numb than she thought.

While she had thought that she should tell him since he was the father of the child, she didn’t have the confidence to blurt it out all of a sudden without being able to handle the aftermath.

Her relationship with Richt was already in tatters, and if she were to reveal her pregnancy, the child would most likely be taken from her after birth. There was no way he would give up his Calitheon blood.

She had countless worries about the unborn child. Isabelle let out a faint sigh and stood up from her seat. She turned to leave, but the door opened before she could.

It was Timogere, staggering toward her, reeking of strong alcohol. Isabelle flinched and took a step back. His eyes were bloodshot from all the drinking he’d done since broad daylight, and he held a bottle in one hand.

“You should have followed to the capital.”

With the sudden pregnancy, already leaving her heart in turmoil, Timogere couldn’t hold back and came to scratch her insides. A wretched guy.

“I don’t want to talk to you, so leave.”

Hearing her irritated voice, Timogér let out a sly laugh.

“What’s so great about you?”

“….”

“All you’ve got is a pretty face.”

“….”

“I think I told you what you have to do for the family.”

“….”

“Has my sister forgotten about it? Huh?”

Timogere ruffled Isabelle’s hair. The smell of alcohol hit her nostrils and she felt sick. Her stomach flipped and her insides cramped. Sourness rose in her throat and she barely held her breath to keep from vomiting.

“What, now you’re disgusted with me?”

“Get off me!”

“You’ve become impolite.”

Timogere flicked her cheek nastily with his finger.

“Should I tell you what elder brother should do for the family?”

“….”

“Die. Die without dirtying the name of Blanchette any further.”

“….”

“It’s better to fade into history than be branded with a disgraceful name.”

The corners of Timogere’s mouth turned up at the corners. He tossed down the bottle in his hand and grabbed Isabelle by the throat.

With a snap, Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat. The intense grip on her throat made blood rush to her head, causing dizziness.

Isabelle, with her widened eyes, struggled and scratched Timogere’s arm with her nails. As her nails dug into his flesh, Timogere tossed Isabelle to the floor. Her slender body fell like a lifeless puppet.

A series of coughs erupted as she caught her breath. Isabelle buried her face in the rug, trying to catch her breath.

“When you ran your mouth, I hope you thought of the price you’d pay. Now there’s no Eden or Richt to save you.”

Timogere stepped to the fallen Isabelle’s side and bent down to one knee. He grabbed her by the hair, lifted her, and slammed her to the ground. A groan escaped her mouth.

“Does it hurt?”

The impact was so strong it felt like her nasal bones might have broken. Warm liquid trickled down her chin. Seeing the red marks gradually appearing on the rug, Isabelle instinctively covered her nose.

“I must look pathetic in your eyes.”

Even in the moments of falling and getting hit in the face, she was more concerned about the child in her belly than the pain. Fortunately, the hit was on her face. But she couldn’t be completely relieved. There was no guarantee that a drunken Timogere wouldn’t kick her in the stomach.

Wiping the blood from her nose a few times, Isabelle wrapped her waist with one hand to protect her stomach. Timogere never released his grip on her hair.

Just as she realized the child could be in danger if she made a mistake, a random foot kicked him in the head. Timogere’s body went sprawling in an instant.

A familiar broad back filled her vision, and she felt a strange sense of relief. With one hand protecting her belly, Isabelle used the other to push herself up from the floor.

“Who are you laying your hands on now?”

“D-Duke..C-Calitheon…”

Timogere stammered, holding his aching head, his face flushed with a confused expression.

“I-I think there’s a misunderstanding…”

He seemed to want to explain the situation, but he stumbled over his words, unable to come up with a proper excuse.

“You son of a bitch.”

Each word he spat out was chillingly cold.

Richt kicked him in the stomach a few more times as he sprawled on the floor. It was a merciless blow Timogere grabbed his stomach, groaning in pain as his body contorted. Richt’s gaze, looking down from above, was as cold as ice.

Timogere read the deadly intent in those eyes and let out a pained gasp, then crawled to the doorway. He had no pride or anything. In his drunken stupor, he could barely control himself, and he was just being beaten.

Instead of chasing after the fleeing Timogere, Richt came to Isabelle’s side on the floor. Kneeling down, he wrapped his arms behind her back and helped her stand.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you here?”

Richt’s expression was fierce as he scanned her blood-stained face.

“This damn bastard!”

He muttered an expletive as he noticed the blood on her face and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to gently wipe it away.

“Since when?”

“…”

“Since that bastard hit you.”

“Uhh…”

There was no particular reason for the start of the abuse. Since they were very young, whenever Isabelle was praised by her parents for something, no matter how small, Timogere had been delivering silent punishments out of sight.

He would push her down the stairs, pinch her very hard on the thigh, or stomp on her foot with his heel.

As he got older, the intensity naturally increased. At some point, without any apparent reason, he began hitting Isabelle as he pleased. Usually, it was on areas covered by clothes, like the abdomen or back.

Even though her body was bruised, Isabelle never told anyone. No, she couldn’t. After hitting her, Timogere always added a few words.

‘If our parents see the bruises, they’ll be sad. You’re a good child. You shouldn’t let them be upset.’

To Timogere, his younger sister was merely an outlet for expressing his anger and frustration, and there was nothing Isabelle could do about it if her parents were involved. Looking back now, she felt quite foolish.

She realized how pathetic she would look in Richt’s eyes if she told him everything as it was. She didn’t want to explain in detail the humiliation she had endured.

“Seems like it’s not just once or twice, huh? Damn it!”

“…….”

“Is it something else I don’t know? I really didn’t know anything about you.”

His face, as he spoke almost like a sigh, was filled with emotions such as pain, self-blame, sadness, and guilt. Richt squeezed his head as if trying to figure out a way to take Isabelle with him. Now that he knew this place wasn’t safe for her, he couldn’t leave her in the Blanchette family any longer.

“I’ve come to get you. Come with me to the capital.”

“…….”

“I should have come sooner. No, I should have taken you that day.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry, Isabelle.”

“I…….”

Fearing a refusal, Richt interrupted her.

“Don’t say no, please. I can’t have you in the same house with a psycho who beats his sister.”

“…….”

“No matter how much you hate it, it’ll be better than this place.”

Isabelle thought of the child in her belly. When she’d fallen to the ground after Timogere’s assault earlier, she worried more about the child than the pain. She was suddenly scared, fearing that something might have gone wrong. Fortunately, she didn’t feel any stomach pain.

As Richt mentioned, she couldn’t stay in this house any longer. She feared for the safety of her child. Despite being a sudden and unexpected presence in life, maternal instincts had kicked in, and the well-being of the child was her foremost worry.

“I know how you must see me. I must seem like a blind idiot blinded by lust.”

“…”

“That’s not why I suggested going to the capital.”

As Isabelle’s silence lingered, Richt added some clarification.

“If you don’t want to live with me, I’ll get you a place of your own. I’ll assist you in becoming independent, so please, allow me to do that much.”

While there were some aspects to consider before accepting, it was undeniably an appealing proposition. Isabelle had always lived under someone else’s protection, and practically, she had nowhere else to go at the moment.

If only Eden was an option, she would have gone to him for help, but now that wasn’t possible.