Chapter 31
Janet’s Point of View
I was shocked to hear that Grandma was sick-and even more shocked that I was just hearing about it now. All this time Rowan had been trying to get me to attend her birthday party. Was this the reason? And he never once mentioned it? “Grandma is sick and you’re just telling me now?” I said, my voice shaking with anger. If she’s truly sick, why did Rowan threaten to sabotage my career just to get me to that party? Why not simply tell me the truth? And what the hell does her illness have to do with our divorce? The questions were tightening in my head. I had no idea what kind of game he was playing here.
Rowan sat up from the bed and turned to face me. He already looked tired-but not nearly as tired as I felt.
“Grandma has a heart condition that requires surgery,” he said quietly. “But she’s refusing. Even after we contacted the best surgeons in the country, she still won’t go through with it.”
“Why would she refuse surgery?” I asked, confused.
“She insists we get back together and have a child-maybe even children-before she agrees to anything. She says that if she doesn’t survive the surgery, she wants to die happy knowing we’re okay and that she got to meet her great-grandchild.”
His words caught me completely off guard. I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry. What the hell is this? Out of all excuses, Rowan chose this? How childish. Did he really think I’d fall for that? There was no way I was going to believe him. Not anymore.
But seeing how worried he looked, how genuinely concerned he seemed, I tried to keep myself composed.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t think it’s possible for me to get pregnant for you, Rowan. There’s no way I’m sleeping with you. The divorce is happening.”
Rowan’s mother had made it very clear that I wasn’t fit to bear her grandchildren-that they had already found someone else suitable. So why didn’t Rowan go to her for all this?
“What do you mean it’s not possible? Janet, aren’t you a woman? I already told you, money isn’t the issue. I’ll pay anything to make this work. It’s just for Grandma’s sake,” Rowan snapped.
It felt surreal discussing this with someone I thought I was done with. When I left that house, I told myself I’d never have to face Rowan again. This was never part of the plan. And now him trying to get me pregnant—it made me furious.
“And to be honest with you, Rowan,” I said, leaning against the wall, “your mother really needs to take you to a doctor and have your masculinity checked. I’ve been blamed for not conceiving, but maybe it’s your fault. Seriously, get yourself checked.”
I hadn’t meant the words to come out as harshly as they did, but I didn’t regret saying them.
Rowan’s face turned red with rage. He got up and rushed at me, grabbing my waist. Before I could react, he flipped me onto the
bed.
“Are you really doubting if I’m a man?” he demanded, his face close to mine. “Why do you keep bringing this up? I may not be as patient as you think. Don’t tempt me.”
“Are you angry because I’m telling the truth?” I shot back. “I don’t want to tempt you, Rowan. Now get off me.”
But I wasn’t really fighting him. As crazy as it sounded, a part of me was glad he was reacting like this. That was stupid-I knew it. He was my ex-husband, and whatever I once felt for him had died the day I walked out of his house.
“Let’s see who begs for mercy now,” he muttered as he started kissing me.
It took everything in me to resist, but outwardly, I wasn’t fighting him. Rowan had this way of getting under my skin. Always had.
“What the hell, Rowan!” I tried to push him off, but he was stronger. Before I could stop what was happening, he kissed me
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again. Part of me wanted to fight it–but instead, I was enjoying the moment. My body was betraying me again.
He kissed my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Again and again, and then whispered, “Don’t worry about the child. We can get it another way. I know you can’t conceive. I’ll figure it out.”
His words made my stomach twist. What the hell did he mean by “get it another way”? I remembered how his mother said I’d never be allowed to bear his child. So it was all true. I was too low to carry his baby.
The moment turned sickening. I shoved him off and rushed to the bathroom, where I threw up violently. I regretted letting him touch me. Regretted giving in even for a second. Rowan would never love me. Not really.
I was still in the bathroom when he knocked softly on the door.
“Are you okay?” he asked from the other side.
If he already had someone else to get pregnant, why was he acting like he cared?
I stood up, wiped my face, opened the door, and shoved past him without a word.
“Are you sick or something?” he asked, sounding confused. “What the hell was that?”
“I’m fine, Rowan. You just disgust me,” I said coldly, then walked over to the bed and lay down on one side.
I lay there, wishing for the sun to rise so I could leave. I’m already done sharing this space with Rowan. Completely done.
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