Chapter 9
“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said, his voice dry and rough. “Olivia was pregnant and applied for medical parole.”
“She called me, told me about the child. I didn’t agree to let her keep it and told her to terminate the pregnancy. But she held a grudge and took her anger out on you–she wanted to kill you.”
I looked at him quietly.
“I know. She was seriously injured and the baby is gone.”
Just as I was about to leave, Wyatt suddenly grew agitated. Complex emotions flashed across his eyes–regret, pain, sorrow.
“I remember everything now! The day you were kidnapped in our last life…” His voice
cracked and became hoarse.
My heart clenched sharply. He actually remembered?
Wyatt suddenly threw off the blanket, roughly ripped out his IV, and slammed his knees hard against the cold floor tiles. He dropped to his knees before me..
“Aubrey! I’m truly sorry. I was blinded and deceived–I hurt you!”
A lump formed in my throat, and despite everything, I couldn’t hold back.
“Wyatt! Do you even know how desperate I was back then?”
Memories flooded back like a tidal wave, and I felt as though I was there again, on that rooftop.
“My fingers were chopped off one by one.” Instinctively, I raised my right hand–the one unscarred in this life–but I could still feel the searing pain from before.
“I waited 24 hours. And you? You took all my bodyguards away and went shopping with your so–called cousin!”
Wyatt lifted his head abruptly; his face was pale as death. His lips trembled but no words.
came out.
“Later, I couldn’t bear the pain anymore.” My voice suddenly calmed. “I jumped off the rooftop.”
The air in the hospital room froze.
“At that time, inside me,” I gently pressed my hand over my abdomen, “there was a three–month–old child. I didn’t even have the chance to tell you.”
Wyatt’s expression collapsed instantly, his body stiffening like he’d been struck by lightning.
Then, suddenly, he raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.
The crisp sound echoed through the room.
He didn’t stop–again and again, as if trying to beat himself to death.
My Ex–Husband Asked My Hand for Remarriage
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14:16 Sun, 1 Jun
Soon, his cheek swelled and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
“Aubrey, I’m sorry!” His voice was broken and desperate. “Please… forgive me!”
He crawled forward on his knees, reaching for the hem of my clothes.
I took a step back, avoiding his touch.
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“Forgive you?” I sneered coldly. “Wyatt, do you know what it feels like to have your fingers chopped off? To have the kidnappers call every hour, and you never pick up? Do you know how utterly desperate I was?”
“That night, it was raining,” I continued softly, as if recounting someone else’s story,
“I dragged my broken hand to the edge of the rooftop. It was so cold–it was freezing. But when I thought about dying and never having to wait for your calls again, I felt relief.” Wyatt let out an unearthly wail, curling up into a ball, banging his forehead on the floor repeatedly.
“Aubrey, I’m a monster! I killed you and our child! Please, I beg you! Forgive me!”
“I will change, please–just give me a chance to make it up to you!“. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips trembling uncontrollably.
“This time, I swear I won’t-”
“No more ‘this time,” I cut him off sharply. “From the day you chose to believe your cousin over me, it was over. For both our lives.”
Iturned and opened the hospital door. Behind me his heart–wrenching cries continued. “Aubrey! Don’t go! Please!”
I didn’t look back.
Only the stifled sobs of Wyatt echoed faintly through the room.
A year later, at my daughter’s full–month celebration, I received a package.
Inside was all of Wyatt’s savings–and a faded photograph.
In the photo, a twelve–year–old me smiled as I handed Wyatt a piece of cake. In the corner, Aidan held a pile of gifts, but his eyes were quietly watching me.
“What are you looking at?” Aidan leaned over, holding our daughter.
“Nothing.”
I heard that Wyatt’s legs were completely paralyzed. He now lives in a rainy town somewhere in South America, confined to a wheelchair.
As for me–my life was finally soft and whole, just like the daughter cradled in my arms right now.
