Wedding Night: My Disabled Husband Made Me Cry-Chapter 42: I Won’t Divorce You

"Vivian, you have a fever!"

Vivian Quinn tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, refusing to budge.

As she slept, Vivian Quinn was tormented by a series of nightmares.

In her dreams, she sank to the bottom of a frigid ocean. Seawater flooded her nose and ears, and a suffocating pressure crushed down on her, leaving no escape.

She was so cold, feeling her limbs freeze solid, unable to move.

In the haze between dream and reality, she sensed a familiar presence as a strong, powerful arm wrapped around her.

Vivian Quinn clung to the arm like a lifeline, moving toward the source of heat and holding on tight.

...

When she woke up again, Vivian Quinn was disoriented, unsure of what day or time it was.

She slowly opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the handsome face of the sleeping man beside her.

Right then, she was wrapped around Jett Sterling like an octopus, her arms around his neck and her legs tangled around his waist.

Vivian Quinn’s face instantly flushed red, and she scrambled to let him go.

Her movement stirred the man, and he opened his eyes. A trace of groggy confusion lingered in their depths before quickly clearing. "Vivian, you’re awake?"

Before Vivian Quinn could say a word, his palm was on her forehead.

"It finally went down. Your fever kept coming back all day."

Only then did Vivian Quinn notice the pitch-black sky outside the window and the soft glow of a night light in the room.

"Vivian, you must be hungry. I’ll have someone bring food up."

"Don’t bother," Vivian Quinn said, her voice cold and distant.

Jett Sterling froze. "Vivian, I’m sorry. I’m the one who wronged you."

Vivian Quinn said nothing. She threw back the covers, got up, and went straight into the bathroom.

When she came out, Jett Sterling was no longer in the room.

Vivian Quinn was ravenously hungry. Just as she was about to grab her phone to order takeout, there was a knock on the door, and a woman who looked to be in her fifties walked in.

"Good evening, Young Madam. I’m Nanny Jenner. The Young Master sent me to take care of you." Nanny Jenner bowed respectfully and began setting out dishes on a small table.

Vivian Quinn hesitated for a moment before sitting down. She had a bowl of congee and two soup dumplings, which settled her stomach.

Nanny Jenner cleared everything away and left.

Vivian Quinn brushed her teeth in the bathroom, then lay down again, turned off the light, and went to sleep.

In the darkness, the bedroom door opened.

Vivian Quinn’s body tensed instinctively. "Get out!"

"Vivian," she heard Jett Sterling say, "we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" Vivian Quinn blurted out. "If it’s about a divorce, fine. Anything else is off the table."

The man’s low, pained voice echoed in the dark room. "Do you really want to divorce me?"

"I’ve made myself clear. I can’t live with a liar. Divorce is the only way out. And your mother was right—a marriage between unequals will not end well. It’s not just the material gap, but a mental one. For example, I simply can’t understand why you would lie."

Jett Sterling frowned. "My mother came to see you?"

"You didn’t know?"

"Of course not." Jett Sterling suddenly realized what had happened. He quickly turned on the light and maneuvered his wheelchair to the bedside. "She forced you to divorce me, didn’t she? Those divorce papers... she prepared them, right?"

Vivian Quinn opened her eyes and looked at him. "She prepared the divorce papers, but I was the one who wanted to give them to you. And I was the one who signed my name."

"If I don’t want a divorce, no one can force me. Conversely, if I want one, then it’s happening."

Jett Sterling squeezed his eyes shut in pain, his deep voice heavy with anguish. "Vivian, I lost control that night. I apologize to you. I’m sorry..."

"If you’re truly sorry, then sign the papers and we can part ways amicably."

"Vivian, I will not divorce you." Jett Sterling looked at her. "I’ve already torn up the divorce papers. I could never divorce you."

"Why?" Vivian Quinn looked at the almost stubborn determination in his eyes, confused. "You’re so rich, you could have any wife you want. Why are you clinging to me? Jett Sterling, we’re not right for each other."

"Whether we’re right for each other isn’t your call to make. Vivian, the position of Mrs. Sterling is yours, and for the rest of our lives, it can only be yours."

The girl’s long lashes trembled. "Jett Sterling, I’m tired. I don’t want to argue with you. I’ve made up my mind about the divorce, and I hope you’ll respect my decision."

"Vivian, marriage is a matter for two people, and so is divorce. In any case, I will absolutely not agree to a divorce. Not unless I’m dead." The man’s voice softened. "I know you don’t want to see me. I won’t disturb your rest. I’ll sleep in the guest room."

Jett Sterling left the master bedroom and took out his phone to make a call. "My mother came to see Vivian. Look into it."

About ten minutes later, Easton Rivers called. "Master Sterling, I have an answer. Mrs. Sterling did indeed visit the villa that afternoon. She told the maids that she would speak with you herself and that they didn’t need to report her visit, so the maids never mentioned it to me."

"Understood," the man ordered in a low voice. "I need you to do something..."

...

Vivian Quinn slept until noon the next day. Perhaps because she had finally gotten enough rest, she felt much more energetic upon waking.

She washed up and went downstairs, where lunch was already prepared.

Jett Sterling wasn’t there, and Vivian Quinn didn’t ask. She just ate by herself.

The chef had returned, and the dishes were exquisite and delicious—much better than takeout.

Vivian Quinn’s appetite had improved considerably. Just as she put down her chopsticks, Easton Rivers suddenly arrived with several men in suits.

"Young Madam, these gentlemen are Master Sterling’s personal lawyers," Easton Rivers introduced.

Vivian Quinn was completely baffled. ’What are they doing here with lawyers?’

"Young Madam, please take a look." Easton Rivers took out a stack of documents and placed them on the coffee table. "This is a list of all the real estate properties under Master Sterling’s name, including this villa. In total, there are fifteen villas, eight high-rise apartments, three commercial buildings, two plots of land, and three private islands abroad."

"This file contains his liquid assets, including funds, stocks, several private jets, and yachts. Master Sterling is fond of cars, so there are quite a few of those as well."

Vivian Quinn frowned. "What’s the meaning of this? Are you showing off his wealth?"

Easton Rivers nodded quickly. "Master Sterling is indeed as wealthy as a nation. And this is just what’s readily available. It’s enough for an ordinary person to live on for several lifetimes."

"So why are you showing me this?" Vivian Quinn said, displeased. "I told you, I’m leaving with nothing. I don’t want a single cent from him."

Easton Rivers was taken aback by the icy aura emanating from her and explained, "These are indeed property transfer agreements, but they aren’t compensation for a divorce."

"Transfer." Vivian Quinn suddenly felt like she no longer understood the meaning of the word. "What do you mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like," Easton Rivers explained. "Master Sterling said that you were upset by his mother’s comment about an ’unequal match,’ so he hopes that transferring these assets into your name might help you feel a little better."

"Furthermore, once the assets are in your name, the Sterling Family won’t be able to give you any trouble. You won’t have to worry about them trying to break you two up again."

"Young Madam, Master Sterling is truly devoted to you. I feel that no matter what, you should give him another chance..."