How to Destroy a Cheater Without Saying Goodbye novel Chapter 242

“You’re out of line!”

Rebekah stepped in front of Eddy, shielding him with her body.

She wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on him.

“You haven’t cared for Healy in three years—what right do you have to blame Eddy now?”

“Eddy works nonstop. It’s no wonder he isn’t up to date on every detail about Healy’s meds.”

Blanche’s eyes were bloodshot, but she kept her gaze fixed on Eddy. “Have you been hurting him?”

Eddy gently pushed Rebekah aside and reached for Blanche’s hand.

She recoiled as if shocked by an electric current, yanking her hand away.

“Honey, how could I ever hurt our son?” Eddy’s tone was soft, almost soothing.

It was just the orphanage, after all.

“Mom, Dad never hurt me.” Healy’s voice broke in from the hallway.

He pressed a hand to his chest, clearly struggling, and tried to explain, “Mom, these bruises don’t hurt anymore.”

“It was just some kids at the home. I talked to them, and they promised not to hit me again.”

Blanche stared at the way Healy held his chest, listening as he continued.

“Mom, I did what you said. I stopped picking on the other kids, and I don’t fight anymore.”

“Honey, you’re accusing me unfairly,” Eddy said with a wounded look.

“Mr. Simmons, I think it’s inappropriate for you to call my wife ‘honey,’” said Ablett as he approached, slipping an arm around Blanche’s shoulders. “I’d appreciate it if you showed some respect.”

Eddy met Ablett’s cool gaze but didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced over at Healy.

“Mom, my chest hurts so much.” Healy’s face was paper white, pitiful in its frailty.

But Blanche didn’t look at him. Healy was the Simmons family’s precious treasure—she didn’t need to worry about him. “He’s awake, so he can go home.”

“From now on, don’t come here again.”

She walked out, her heart twisting in agony at the words ‘heart condition.’

Healy tried to climb out of bed to follow her, but he was too weak and collapsed, whispering, “Mom, don’t go. My heart hurts so much.”

When he was younger, the smallest scrape would send his mom rushing to his side in a panic.

Healy was almost eight now. He understood what marriage meant, what it meant to be someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend.

He’d overheard his aunt and one of the bodyguards talking—his mom was going to marry someone else. She didn’t want Dad or him anymore.

His mom couldn’t marry someone else.

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