?<strong>Chapter 462:</strong>


    “Well, get up and let’s go home.” Jayden pulled Elyse to her feet but maintained a distance between them.


    Elyse sensed a subtle shift in their dynamic, which deepened her pain.


    After they stepped into the elevator, Peyton grinned as he slowly made his way back to the ward.


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    “I am truly their savior and protector! Without me, they would have already broken up.” Reclining in his hospital bed, Peyton grabbed his phone and started boasting to his friends about his role in their rtionship.


    Once outside the hospital, Elyse attempted to reconcile with Jayden, but he was visibly upset. Throughout the drive home, he remained silent, ignoring her attempts at making amends.


    Confused and hurt, Elyse watched as Jayden exited the car upon their arrival and headed straight for the study.


    Standing outside the locked door, Elyse felt utterly lost.


    Driscoll noticed the tension immediately and approached with concern, “Are you alright? Was there a disagreement?”


    Elyse managed a sad smile after a pause. “He despises me now and doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”


    Driscoll, taken aback, replied, “Why so negative? Nothing is beyond resolution. He is simply upset and maybe he’s in the study catching up on work. Don’t overthink it.”


    “I’ve angered him and he won’t forgive me. He’s going to leave me,” Elyse said, shaking her head in despair.


    Driscoll struggled to understand her bleak outlook, knowing how much Jayden cared for her. Despite his anger, Driscoll couldn’t imagine Jayden truly ignoring her.


    Yet Elyse felt otherwise, convinced he no longer cared for her.


    Driscoll tried to reassure her, “Please don’t overthink and jump to conclusions. You can’t think straight right now.”


    Elyse thought Driscoll’s words made sense; maybe she was just overthinking. Things might not be as dire as she feared.


    However, she couldn’t shake off her feelings of doom. Could her pregnancy be influencing her thoughts?


    Subconsciously cradling her stomach, Elyse decided to return to her room and rest, as Driscoll had suggested.


    Perhaps because she was truly exhausted, Elyse fell asleep the moment shey down.


    Downstairs, Driscoll carried a cup of coffee into the study.


    Jayden was seated at his desk, scrutinizing a document, his expression icy. It was clear he was in a foul mood.


    After a moment’s hesitation, Driscoll ced the coffee on the desk and ventured, “Sir, Mrs. Owen is quite distressed. Perhaps you should check on her?”


    Jayden scoffed and replied sharply, “Why should I bother? She doesn’t need me. I’ve indulged her too much as it is.”


    Driscoll gave an awkward smile, recognizing the depth of Jayden’s anger—otherwise, he would have sought Elyse out already.


    “But this situation seems different. She firmly believes you don’t want her anymore,” Driscoll pressed.


    Jayden’s frustration red. “She thinks I don’t want her just because I haven’t spoken to her?” He mmed his hand on the desk. “She’s overthinking things again. If I wanted to leave her, I would have filed for divorce a long time ago.”


    Jayden dered, his voice rising in irritation, “Leave her be. She’s creating problems where there are none.”


    Driscoll opened his mouth to respond but then thought better of it.


    Realizing Jayden’s temper had reached a peak, Driscoll decided to drop the matter. He would try persuading him again after he had calmed down.


    Sighing internally at the recurring disputes between the couple, Driscoll exited the study.


    After he left, Jayden’s agitation grew. He tossed his pen down and found himself unable to focus on the documents anymore.


    Jayden felt this time he had to set things straight with Elyse. She had been embraced by another man and seemed unaffected by his presence.


    It was clear she didn’t take his feelings seriously, showing little regard for him.


    He saw her as his alone, and the idea of any other man close to her was uneptable.


    “I’ll make sure she remembers who her husband is!” he muttered to himself, leaning back in his leather chair with a look of dark possessiveness in his eyes.


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