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2025-05-11 01:02:28Sabrina’s POV
Every step felt heavy as I finally arrived back at the hospital. My eyes blankly stared at the cold white corridors, reflecting the state of my heart right now. My fingers tightly clutched a small bag in my hand, but it couldn’t hide the slight, uncontrollable tremor.Each step felt long and exhausting, as if the weight on my chest was growing heavier. Memories of the difficult times we had gone through still haunted my thoughts, making it hard to focus on what lay ahead.As I passed through the waiting room, the whispers and footsteps of others faded into a distant background. I felt uncertainty cloud my heart. Would everything be alright? Would Nicholas pull through?I recalled Charlie's laughter and the hope shining in his eyes. That was a reminder that we still had each other, even though this situation was so challenging.Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. "You can do this," I whispered to myself. I had to b
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Let’s Divorce My husband 376
Nicholas's POV I stared out at the road ahead. Midnight Jakarta felt foreign, though I once called this city home. Cars sped past. Life went on, oblivious to the fact that just hours ago, I had almost lost everything.“Bima’s legal team is en route to the prison,” Prasetya said quietly, as if he knew I couldn’t stop thinking about one name: Hazel.I nodded. “I need to know she’s okay.”“We’ll make sure of it. But for tonight, go home first. The rest of your family needs you.”I didn’t reply, only turned back to the window. Sabrina… Charlie… Those two faces filled my mind so clearly. Charlie’s smile that always softened my hardened heart. Sabrina’s eyes—fierce but always hiding unspoken worry.Tonight, I’d come close to never seeing them again.“Adrian won’t stop,” I murmured.“We know. But this time, he won’t slip away so easily,” Prasetya replied.I wanted to believe him. But people like Adrian always found a way. He wasn’t just a physical threa
Let’s Divorce My husband 375
Nicholas's POVMy body was still sprawled across the cold concrete floor, blood dripping from my temple and the corner of my mouth. Every breath felt like being struck by a boulder — my ribs ached, possibly cracked. But more than the pain, what consumed me was fear.Sabrina... Charlie... Hazel...I forced my hand to move, pressing against the floor to support myself. My knees trembled under the weight, but I had to stand. There was no other choice. I wasn't done.I wasn’t done. I couldn’t be.Leaning against the wall, I struggled to regulate my breathing even as my lungs burned. Somewhere out there, the woman I loved was fighting her own battle — Sabrina. And the two children who should never have known loss — Charlie and Hazel — they were waiting. They needed me.I clenched my fist, trying to stop the shaking. The wound on my temple had half-dried, but the sting lingered. This wasn’t the first time I’d ended up like this, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.
Let’s Divorce My husband 374
Hazel’s POV Another blow. This time to my lip. The taste of iron and blood filled my mouth. I cried silently. Pain, fear, and cold all coiled in my chest.Then Lani pulled something out of her pocket—a dirty sock, knotted tightly. I tried to fight back, to scream, but one of them gripped my neck, and Lani stuffed the sock into my mouth roughly.“Wouldn’t want your pretty little screams waking anyone up,” she sneered.I kicked, shook, thrashed with all I had left, but nothing helped. Their hands held me firm. My breath came fast and shallow. I could only inhale through my nose—and even that was labored.Lani began punching my stomach again. My back slammed against the toilet wall. The world tilted. My vision blurred. I saw red spots—blood or just the pounding pressure in my skull, I didn’t know.My hands went limp. My legs numbed. I wanted to scream, to cry for help, but only a muffled rasp came from my throat.Lani’s hand pressed around my neck. Her grip
Let’s Divorce My husband 373
Hazel’s POV I didn’t hate them. I was just afraid. They were human too, just like me. But perhaps the difference between us lay in how the world had treated us before we got here. I even after being broken down, still had someone out there trying to save me. But them… maybe they had no one.Still, that didn’t erase my pain.I wanted to tell them that the letter wasn’t just paper. That within it lived proof that I still mattered, that someone out there still believed I was innocent. But there was no point. They wouldn’t listen. They never did.Some of them even laughed when they saw me crawling on the floor, searching for the shredded pieces of that letter, hoping I could still read a few words. “Must be from her boyfriend,” one of them muttered. Laughter echoed down the iron corridor.I stayed quiet. My tears no longer fell because of the insults—but because I was truly, completely alone.There were nights when I pressed my face into the thin pillo
Let’s Divorce My husband 372
Hazel’s POV I walked to the corner of the room, settling beneath the bunk bed—one of the few quiet places, far enough from the chaos. My fingers grazed the rough wall behind me, where I found faint scratches, small tally marks etched by someone before me. Row after row of lines, perhaps counting the days that passed. I began carving one of my own—not with anything sharp, just my fingernail. But it was enough. Enough to make me feel like I still… existed.One more day. One more mark. It meant I was still here. Still breathing. Still alive.In the distance, I heard the clang of metal being slammed—maybe a guard opening another block. Then hurried footsteps. I turned slightly, but as usual, I didn’t expect anything. No one was looking for me. No letters. No news.I leaned my body back against the wall again. My thoughts strained to hold on. The small hope I clung to had started to feel like a burden, but I wasn’t ready to let it go. Even if no one came. Even if every d
Let’s Divorce My husband 371
Hazel’s POVThe walls of this prison are cold. Even when the sun scorches the world outside, the chill seeps into my bones. I sit in the corner of my cell, my body growing thinner by the day, leaning against the damp concrete wall. My breathing is slow—too slow, as if my body itself is beginning to give up. Food no longer holds any appeal. It tastes bland. Sometimes even revolting.I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been in here. Time feels frozen between the sound of clanging bars, the footsteps of guards, and the metallic clang that signals meal times. Everything feels mechanical. Nothing feels warm. Nothing feels real. I just sit—breathing, thinking, then falling back into silence.One day, I tried to write. I tore a scrap from the food wrapper and hid it. But no words could truly express what I felt. Even writing Charlie’s name made my chest tighten. He’s too young to understand all this, and I’m too helpless to explain it.I miss him. More than anyone. His la
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