<b>Chapter </b><b>327 </b>
Charlotte stood outside the door for a moment, then pushed it open and went in.
Jaxson sat leaning against the head of the bed, shirtless with just a jacket covering him, his waist and abdomen wrapped in white gauze<b>. </b>
He, who has always been full <b>of </b>spirit, now has a heavy sense <b>of </b>fatigue between his eyebrows. His gaze falls on Charlotte’s face, his voice hoarse, “I thought you wouldn’te to see me.”
Charlotte stood at the foot of the bed, “As long as you’re alive, it’s all good.”
“Do you want me to die<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“I kind of miss it.”
He chuckled, “I died, aren’t you sad?”
Charlotte was silent for half a second, then smiled, “No way, even if you die right now, I won’t shed a single tear.”
Jaxson stared at her, trying to find a trace of reluctance, affection on her face, like he used to do in the past.
But no.
His jaw twitched, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, “Do you hate me?”
Charlotte looked at him calmly and said, “I don’t hate you. Do you think I still love you?”
He lit a cigarette with a lighter, didn’t care if it was a non–smoking area, took a couple <b>of </b>puffs<b>, </b>coughed a bit<b>, </b>seemed to be
choked.
He winced when he coughed and pulled at the wound.
Seeing Charlotte still motionless, he suddenlyughed, “I can tell you hate me, do you want a divorce<b>?</b><b>” </b>
When divorce <b>was </b><b>mentioned</b>, Charlotte blinked.
The <b>man </b><b>leaned </b>against the head of the bed, blowing smoke rings, <i>his </i>deep <b>gaze </b>piercing through the mist, <b>his </b><b>smile </b>fading. “But I<b>, </b>Jaxson, am only a widower, not divorced. As long <b>as </b>I’m alive, this marriage won’t end.”
Without waiting <b>for </b>Charlotte to respond, he put the cigarette butt into the water cup, <b>and </b>the <b>ashes </b>went out <b>instantly</b>.
<b>He </b><b>picked </b>up <b>the </b><b>scissors </b><b>on </b>the desk <b>and </b>got out of bed.
The <b>man </b><b>dragged </b>his <b>injured </b>leg towards her<b>, </b><b>step </b>by step, <b>and </b>handed her the <b>scissors</b>.
She <b>started </b><b>to </b><b>resist</b><b>, </b><b>Jaxson </b><b>tightened </b>his <b>grip </b>and pointed the tip of the <b>scissors </b>at his heart<b>, </b>“Stab <b>here</b><b>, </b><b>and </b>you’ll <b>be </b><b>free</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
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