The Boy Who Tattooed My Name on His Chest novel Chapter 50

After that, Marcus started visiting me often.

I refused to see him, but he never got angry.

Sometimes, he would sneak in late at night.

Sometimes, he would simply sit by my bed and watch me sleep.

When I woke up one evening, the room was dimly lit.

Tears clung to my lashes from yet another dream of Grandma.

I opened my eyes and saw Marcus sitting at my bedside.

I remembered how he used to tell me he liked watching me sleep.

"Only when you're asleep do you behave like a little kitten."

He used to come home late from work and find me still asleep.

Sometimes, he would rest his head in his hand and wait for me to wake up.

Back then, all his tenderness belonged to me.

For a moment, I thought Anna's return had been nothing but a bad dream.

I reached out to grab his hand.

"Marcus, you're back."

But he immediately shoved me away.

His grip was so strong that my ring flew from my finger, landing with a crisp clang on the floor.

I snapped back to reality.

He was furious.

Towering over me, he grabbed my chin and hissed,

"I told you—don't provoke Anna."

His sharp, piercing gaze sent a chill down my spine.

Then, his fingers brushed against my face.

I lifted my chin stubbornly, refusing to back down, even as tears streamed down and soaked his hand.

He hesitated.

His voice softened.

"Clara, I know you're grieving your grandmother. But you still have me."

"Keep the child."

"I will let him inherit everything. I will give him all the love in the world."

His eyes glowed with conviction, as if everything had already been decided.

I almost fell for it.

I laughed bitterly.

"Love? You have the audacity to talk about love?"

Marcus, you truly are shameless.

I stood up and slapped him across the face.

Through my sobs, I asked him, "Do you really think you deserve to be a father?"

"You have two choices—me or Anna. Or we get divorced."

He didn't get angry.

Instead, he chuckled and tilted his head.

"You keep talking about divorce. Do you actually think you'll have a better life without me? Clara, what else can you even do?"

His voice grew colder.