Sir Your Wife Already Signed the Divorce Paper by Josie Johnson novel Chapter 167

years 

Chapter 167 Her First Man 

As soon as Troy thought about the possibility that it might be true, he was quickly caught up in a whirling vortex of emotion. 

Veins pulsed on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, struggling to stop himself from losing his temper. 

He and Imogen couldn’t have a child together. 

Yet, she had a child with another man! 

He thought, “Who is that man? Was he her first man? He actually let Imogen give birth alone and didn’t take responsibility for her? If I know who he is, I swear I will tear that person into shreds!” Then, he recalled Imogen’s wish to go abroad with Liam all along, so he wondered if that man could be Liam. 

He thought, “Do they have a home together abroad? Have they been together since she was in her junior year?” 

Flames of anger flared in the corners of his heart, its flames burning more fiercely with each. passing moment, almost consuming Troy’s sanity. 

All the while, Lane leaned against the wall outside the ward, as still as a statue, quietly perking up his gars to listen carefully. 

There was no sound coming from the ward. 

It was as if there was no one inside. 

Lane thought to himself, “Mr. Marshall must be very sad right now, silently reminiscing about the past, licking the wounds in his heart, and digesting all the bitterness.” 

“Bang!” 

Suddenly, a deafening noise echoed from the ward, causing Lane to shudder. 

Following that came a series of crashing sounds. 

If one listened closely, one would be able to distinguish the thud made by a table being overturned, the friction of a sofa being moved, the sharp and piercing sound of glass shattering, and the clang of something dropping to the floor… 

Lane cringed in fright, thankful that he had come out. 

He could vividly imagine Troy kicking over a table in a fit of 

rage. 

The ward fell into silence once again following that cacophony of noises. 

After what felt like an eternity, a hoarse voice finally came from inside, “You can go back now.” 

The voice sounded relatively calm, but with careful listening, one could detect a hint of weariness and bitterness beneath the surface. 

Lane glanced at his phone. It was already eleven at night. 

Given the situation, he figured Troy wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all. 

Lane arrived at the hospital ward early the next morning. 

Upon entering, a heavy smell of cigarette smoke filled the air, so thick that it was suffocating. 

The room was in complete disarray, with the table overturned, the sofa moved, and everything scattered on the floor. 

Troy sat on the armchair, leaning against the backrest. His legs were crossed, his arms rested on 

the armrests, and his eyes, which were tightly shut, had dark circles underneath. 

It seemed that he was in the same position when Troy left the day before. 

The floor in front of him was covered in a thick layer of cigarette ash. 

Cigarette butts were strewn everywhere, too numerous to count. 

Lane sighed and walked to the window across the room, opening it to let in fresh air. 

After a few seconds of silence, he approached Troy slowly. “Mr. Marshall, would you like to change to another ward? I can have this place cleaned up for you.” 

After a long while, Troy, with his eyes closed, spoke in a hoarse voice as if there was sandpaper in his throat, “All right.” 

Seeing that Troy didn’t bring up the idea of leaving the hospital anymore, Lane felt relieved. 

He was truly worried that if Troy insisted on leaving in his current condition, his body wouldn’t hold up. 

He really felt for Troy. 

While assisting Troy in dealing with the aftermath of the car accident, he checked the 

surveillance footage. 

If it weren’t for Imogen, Troy wouldn’t have sustained such serious injuries only to find out about that kind of news. 

Fate could be quite cruel. 

Lane went out for a while, and when he returned a few minutes later, he said to Troy, “Mr. Marshall, you can go to the neighboring ward for now. Someone will come to clean up here shortly.” 

“Sure.” 

Troy slowly opened his eyes. 

His gaze was dull and lifeless, calm and still as water in a bottomless pit, while his eyes were bloodshot. 

Due to not having slept all night, the folds of his eyelids were even more pronounced. His brows were twisted into a deep frown as he exuded a fierce aura that was filled with resentment. 

He stood up, stepped over the debris on the ground, and walked straight to the neighboring ward. Lane followed closely behind, pouring him a glass of water before placing it on the table in front of Troy and asking, “Mr. Marshall, is there anything you need me to do?” 

He believed that after learning this news, Troy would make a move. 

Troy sat down on the sofa, crossing his long legs, lazily leaning against the backrest. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, revealing the stainless steel watch on his 

wrist. 

He slowly picked up the glass of water and took a sip, his voice deep as he ordered, “Find someone to investigate what happened during Imogen’s third year of studying abroad. Make it as detailed as possible.” 

After sitting still in the ward smoking for the entire night, he finally managed to calm down and comb through everything, pin–pointing several inconsistencies in it. 

First of all was something he had been suspicious of from the beginning. It was obviously Imogen’s first pregnancy due to how clueless and inexperienced she seemed. If she had really 

given birth before, she should have had some experience. 

Secondly, if Imogen had really given birth before, her child should be somewhere. 

“Did she completely disregard the child’s existence, or did she have some connection with him?” He wondered. 

Troy was certain that during the three years of their marriage, Imogen hadn’t returned to the city where she studied. 

Lastly, after calming down, he realized that the child probably had nothing to do with Liam. 

Back then, they hadn’t even recognized each other. 

And considering Imogen’s concern for the child and her fondness for Liam, if they had a child together, she would definitely be with him. 

Even if Liam abandoned her in the end, she wouldn’t abandon the child to marry him. 

Troy hadn’t forgotten that Imogen had thought about divorcing him and raising the child on her 

own. 

So, all that was left was the question of who the child’s father was. 

That was what Troy wanted to know the most. 

In any case, everything was way too suspicious, and Troy couldn’t just let it go. 

He had to uncover the truth of the matter before he could lay his worries to rest. 

“Understood,” Lane answered. 

“Please do it as soon as possible!” Troy urged in a stern tone. 

“I will.” 

After a short rest at the hotel, Imogen and her companions, guided by Charlie, began their journey in Oslo. 

They had arrived just after a snowfall, leaving a thick layer of snow on the ground. However, that didn’t dampen their enthusiasm for exploring the city. 

Their first destination was Karl Johans Gate. 

It was said to be the busiest shopping street in Oslo. 

On both sides of the street, antique buildings stood, housing a variety of shops, including restaurants, cafeterias, shopping malls, and numerous luxury brand stores like LV, Chanel, and Hermes, among others, which reminded them somewhat of Sacia City’s famous shopping street. 

There weren’t a lot of pedestrians, and the three of them strolled leisurely along the street. 

Imogen had her hands in her pockets, stepping on the thick snow, occasionally glancing around, her pace 

unhurried. She didn’t look like a tourist at all. 

Charlie was the most active among them, constantly using her phone’s camera to capture the scenery along the way, occasionally stepping into a store to browse. 

The tax refund rate there was quite high, making luxury shopping very cost–effective. 

Soon, Charlie had her hands full of shopping bags, while Alex had also bought several reasonably priced items, intending to bring them back to give to his parents, relatives, and other friends. “Hey, could one of you take a picture of me?” Charlie stood in front of a building, waving the shopping bags in her hand. 

A Younger Boyfriend 

The building was in typical gothic style with towering spires, distinct lines, simple and bright, grand and magnificent. The round dome windows were adjacent slender columns, and two sculptures of figures stood on each side. 

Alex took the shopping bags from Charlie’s hand and pointed to Imogen, saying, “Let Imogen take the picture for you!” 

Alex was a professional photographer, but he could tell that Imogen wasn’t very enthusiastic. Thus, he wanted to engage her more and make her more active. 

“Imogen, take a picture of me!” Before Imogen could refuse, Charlie handed her the phone. Imogen reluctantly found an angle and took a few pictures for Charlie. 

Charlie looked at the phone and exclaimed, “Wow! This is great, Imogen! You made me look so beautiful!” 

Alex glanced over and smiled. “Imogen, you have some skills. Maybe you should become our exclusive photographer from now on!” 

“Huh?” Imogen furrowed her brows. 

Charlie chimed in. “Yes, yes, you should be our exclusive photographer! Don’t refuse. You’re here for a vacation and not taking photos? Then be our photographer!” 

“All right,” Imogen agreed. 

She figured that she should indeed distract herself with something else. 

For dinner, they chose a local restaurant based on various guides that Charlie had looked up, serving classic dishes from the place. 

According to Charlie, some classic dishes in such cold weather would be exceptionally satisfying. The restaurant was mainly filled with foreigners, and the waitstaff could speak a few phrases in their language. 

After ordering several side dishes, the three of them went to get drinks. 

Suddenly, someone bumped into Imogen. 

Turning her head, Imogen saw a young man with a slightly flushed face. He looked at her apologetically and then at her clothes. He quickly apologized in his tongue, “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” 

Imogen looked where he was glancing and saw a spot on her clothes that got dirtied. 

In the local tongue, Imogen said, “It’s okay. Just be a bit more careful next time.” 

Imogen returned to her seat with her drinks, grabbed a few tissues, and wiped the dirties spot as hard as she could. Nonetheless, there was a stain that was quite noticeable against her white down jacket.