Seven Years of Marriage Seven Years Of Lies Novel by Egg Tart

There were about twenty meters between us.

I could see Zayne’s clenched jaw.

His teeth ground so hard it seemed like he would shatter them.

With that furious expression, he no longer bore any resemblance to the young man I once knew. When I finished speaking, the silence that had fallen over the scene was suddenly broken.

The crowd of reporters surged toward Zayne.

The security guards tried to intervene, but they couldn’t hold back the tide of people.

Everyone wanted to know if Zayne had neglected his wife and child because he was having an affair. They asked him if his infidelity was connected to this fatal accident.

Zayne turned ashen under the barrage of questions.

He pressed his lips together tightly.

Things had spiraled out of control.

He never imagined that our marital issues would escalate to this point.

His eyes darted around nervously.

He finally stammered out a response, “I’ve already told you. I wasn’t at the hospital because I had to save someone. The patient had severe mental health issues. She called me, saying she was going to slit her wrists. As an ER doctor, how could I ignore a call like that?

“I was simply fulfilling my duty as a doctor. How does that have anything to do with cheating?

“Just because there are female patients at the hospital doesn’t mean every doctor is sleeping with them.

“Eliza’s accusations are baseless slander. I can call the patient right now to prove it. I spent hours calming her down, and she just stabilized.”

With that, he dialed Jodie’s number.

He switched on the speakerphone so everyone could hear.

His voice echoed through the microphone, being recorded by every camera on site.

I smirked and said, “Who said I don’t have evidence?Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“I already posted the proof online. You can check your phones right now. It’s in the comment section under that car crash video.”

I wasn’t lying.

Before I left the hospital room, Jodie had sent me a picture.

In the photo, she and Zayne were lying in bed together, fingers intertwined.

The surgical scar on his hand, a mark from his years as a surgeon, was visible.

Jodie probably wasn’t aware of that.

Her shameless flaunting would end up being the final nail in Zayne’s coffin.

As soon as I received that photo, I forwarded it online.

By now, it had already spread across the internet.

The reporters immediately pulled out their phones and opened the comment section. They verified what I had said.

Zayne’s phone continued to ring, unanswered.

His once–confident expression Began to falter, his eyes darting nervously from side to side.

For a moment, he seemed desperate, and then furious.

In less than ten minutes, he could see his career falling apart.

But his misguided love for Jodie clouded his judgment.

Zayne convinced himself that she was simply busy and hadn’t noticed his call.

Unwilling to give up, he dialed her number over and over again.

Each time, he was met with the same automated message.

For thirty minutes, he called, and for thirty minutes, the reporters stood there waiting.

Even the hospital head, standing in the distance, looked like his heart was about to leap out of his throat.

He was waiting for some kind of explanation.

Equally worried, Robert pressed his lips together.