Alexander’s grip around her tightened.
“Yes. I’m married to Alexander. I already told James about my marriage. I hope it’s clear now that I have no interest in going back.” She paused, then added coldly, “Please make sure he doesn’t try to find me again.”
Neil’s face went pale.
Marrying Alexander Graves meant something very clear—this wasn’t a situation James could fight, manipulate, or overpower. If Mia had married someone weaker, someone James could rival, there might have been hope.
But Alexander Graves?
James never stood a chance.
That wasn’t just marriage. That was a sealed door.
Alexander had everything James had… and more. A hundred times more.
A long silence followed before Neil spoke again, his voice cautious now.
“Mia… I need to ask you for a favor.”
She frowned slightly.
“Can you… not provoke James anymore?” he said quietly. “Just—treat him a little more kindly.”
Mia’s fingers tightened unconsciously around Alexander’s arm. Her brows knitted together, irritation flashing through her eyes. Before she could respond, Neil continued, his voice urgent.
“I know your marriage wasn’t good. But James… his life hasn’t been easy either. He doesn’t know how to express himself. He doesn’t even understand his own emotions.”
Mia listened, stiff and silent.
“Before he married you,” Neil went on, “his life was already a mess. You know how his mother is—money, power, expansion. That’s all she ever cared about. From the time he was a child, she pushed him to be the perfect heir. She beat him for mistakes. Controlled every step of his life. Forced him to work nonstop, to earn, to prove himself.”
Mia’s eyes widened slightly.
She had always known Mrs. Sinclair was strict. Cold. Money-minded.
But she had never imaginedthatlevel of cruelty.
Neil exhaled shakily. “You grew up in a family that showed warmth. Care. Love. James didn’t. The only ‘love’ he ever knewwas control and punishment. So he didn’t understand what love in a marriage was supposed to look like.”
Mia’s grip on Alexander tightened further.
Neil glanced toward the room behind him, where James lay motionless on the bed.
“I know he wasn’t a good husband,” Neil said quietly. “But he’s really changed. He’s learned his lesson. He regrets everything—letting you go, hurting you, ignoring you.”
Then, almost pleading, Neil added, “Can you—can you give him one more chance? He’ll take care of you this time. He’ll be a good husband.”
The room felt suddenly heavy.
She straightened fully, pulling away just enough to sit upright. Her expression hardened, anger flashing clearly across her face.
“I understand he didn’t have a good life,” she said coldly, “but does that mean I deserved what I went through for five years?”
Her voice grew sharper, edged with pain. “Does his suffering give him the right to neglect me? Humiliate me? Abandon me when I was scared, injured, crying? Even a dog you raise under the same roof would get more care in five years than I did.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“I was his wife, Neil. Not his therapist. If he wasn’t ready for marriage, he shouldn’t have agreed to marry me instead of leaving me to rot like some decoration in his house.”
