Forbidden Passion
Chapter 598 The Whip Marks on the Back

Phoebe's words hit Theodore like a ton of bricks. He stared at her, stunned, as if his soul had been sucked out of him.

Phoebe just stared back, all calm and cold.

Her icy stare sent shivers down Theodore's spine. He raised a shaky hand to cover her eyes, trying to block out that unfamiliar look.

"Phoebe, don't look at me like that. I can't take it," he begged.

Phoebe didn't move an inch. Nothing could touch her heart anymore.

Her heart had died that day.

Theodore looked at her blank face, feeling totally hopeless. He lost his cool and snapped, "I don't care if you don't like me anymore, or if you hate my guts. I love you, and I'm not letting you go. Divorce? Forget it." Like he was scared she'd say something to set him off, he let go of her hand and stood up. "You're still sick. Rest up. When you're better, I'm taking you home."

With that, Theodore bolted out of the hospital room like a scared rabbit.

As the door clicked shut, Phoebe stared blankly ahead, her eyes empty. After a while, tears started to well up.

She slowly reached out to touch her aching heart.

Her heart was supposed to be dead, so why did it still hurt?

When Patrick saw Theodore in the bar's private room, he could hardly believe the mess in front of him was the once high-flying Theodore.

Patrick took off his baseball cap and mask, plopped down on the black sofa, and looked at the bottles scattered all over the floor. "How much did you drink?" Theodore was sitting on the carpet, his tie all crooked, his shirt a mess. He grinned at Patrick, "You're here."

Patrick kicked a bottle. "If you knew this was gonna happen, why'd you act like that back then?"

Theodore took another swig from the bottle, the booze eating away at his sanity and pride.

Holding the bottle, Theodore looked like a kid who'd lost his favorite toy, all sad and pitiful. "She said she doesn't like me anymore."

Patrick could barely stand to look. He wanted to record this and show it to Theodore when he sobered up.

"If she really didn't like you, would she have stuck around all these years? Anyone with eyes can see she likes you, except you," Patrick said.

Theodore suddenly glared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Phoebe likes you. Didn't you notice at all?" Patrick seemed shocked. "Don't tell me you're just figuring this out now?"

Theodore looked at Patrick in disbelief, panicking. "I didn't know. I thought..."

Theodore had always thought Phoebe still loved Edward, which was why her eyes always looked so sad when she saw him.

"Think about how you've treated her all these years. If she didn't like you, she would've asked for a divorce ages ago. Would she still be with you now?" Patrick asked.

Reflecting on the past, Theodore realized he'd been blinded by jealousy and hate, never considering that Phoebe might actually like him. He'd been a fool. Why had he never noticed Phoebe's feelings for him? "But Phoebe said she doesn't like me anymore. I saved Vanessa first. She must be totally disappointed in me, but I didn't mean to," Theodore replied.

Theodore couldn't keep talking. No amount of excuses could make up for the hurt Phoebe had gone through because of him. It made sense she didn't want to stick around.

But he couldn't let go. If he did, there'd be no chance for him and Phoebe.

Patrick sighed, barely audible. "What's done is done. Regret won't fix it, Theodore. Just do your best to make things right."

Phoebe's young, healthy body healed fast. As the wounds on her back started to heal, the pain and itching became a new kind of torture.

Since the day she asked Theodore for a divorce, he had started dodging her again.

Phoebe always caught a faint whiff of mint when she slept. When she woke up, she was alone in the hospital room.

She knew Theodore was scared she'd bring up the divorce again and didn't dare to see her.

But she had made up her mind. Once she felt better, she'd get a lawyer to draft the divorce papers.

Honestly, there was no need for a divorce agreement between them. She had married Theodore with nothing and would leave with nothing.

Phoebe got out of bed slowly, holding onto the edge. She walked into the bathroom, where a big mirror reflected her pale, sad face.

Phoebe slowly unbuttoned her hospital gown, turned her back to the mirror, and took off her top. The mirror showed the crisscrossing whip marks on her back, like ugly centipedes, shocking to the eye. Outside, Theodore asked the nurse in a low voice, "How is she today?"

The nurse was about to answer when they heard the sound of something breaking in the room. Both their hearts sank, and they quickly pushed the door open and ran in.

Theodore rushed into the room and saw Phoebe wasn't on the bed. The bathroom door was half-open, and he had a bad feeling.

The nurse looked at him nervously. "Mr. Reynolds."

Theodore gestured for her to stay put and strode towards the bathroom. Phoebe stood inside, turned slightly towards the mirror, standing quietly.

The mirror had a hole in the middle, cracks spreading outwards.

The broken mirror reflected Phoebe's back, covered in crisscrossing whip marks.

Theodore's breath caught.

Except for the day he rescued Phoebe, this was the first time Theodore had seen the wounds on her back. Previously, when Phoebe was awake and changing her dressings, he didn't dare approach her. Theodore's eyes fell on Phoebe's back, and his heart clenched. Ignoring his own pain and heartache, he quickly walked over.

Phoebe asked, "Isn't it ugly?"

Theodore froze, standing there coldly, his heart aching so much he couldn't breathe. "It's not ugly, Phoebe. Not at all."

Phoebe calmly pulled up her hospital gown, slowly buttoning it. Her trembling fingers betrayed the pain and repression she was enduring.

Phoebe, with her back to him, laughed. "Why deceive yourself?"

Theodore looked at Phoebe's thin and distant back, his eyes filled with overflowing heartache. He stepped forward and hugged her waist from behind, trying to make his voice sound nonchalant. "It's fine, Phoebe." Phoebe stood still. "I remember you once said you loved my body, that it was the most perfect body you'd ever seen."

Theodore felt a sharp pain in his heart. When had he ever said such a thing?

Phoebe continued, "But it's no longer perfect. It's dirty and ugly. Don't touch it, or you'll dirty your noble hands."