Father's Unfulfilled Last Wish

After those words, I ignored their reactions and stood up to retrieve the suitcase I had packed the night before.

Long hours in the same position had left my body stiff.

But Nora simply focused on eating the breakfast Ethan had brought, pretending not to notice what I was doing.

Dragging my suitcase to the door, I suddenly remembered the items in the refrigerator.

I turned back, stopping directly in front of Nora.

She paused mid-bite and sneered.

"Realized your mistake now? It's not too late to apologize! Don't think you can just walk out because I've been too nice to you these past few years!"

But I didn't even spare her a glance, only saying.

"Please move aside."

She scowled and pretended not to hear, so I simply stepped over her and opened the refrigerator.

On the bottom shelf, I found the dumplings my father had made for me during his last visit.

Tucked underneath the box were a few crisp, new cash.

It was his way of blessing his only son.

He never knew how to cook, but after my mother passed, he took on the task of caring for me alone.

Holding the box, I turned to leave, but Nora deliberately tripped me as I walked past.

My head struck the corner of the coffee table with a dull thud.

She frowned, her face full of irritation. "Why are you treating that box of junk like it's something precious? It should've been thrown out ages ago! It's been stinking up the whole fridge with that meat smell! Even the cleaning lady told me several times to toss it!"

I struggled to get up, my gaze falling on the flour-dusted floor.

My vision blurred as blood slowly trickled down, obscuring my sight.

The rage boiling in my chest was on the verge of exploding.

Nora's perfectly made-up face suddenly darkened, and she impatiently reapplied her lipstick.

"Maxwell, can you stop being so pathetic? Why don't you just get down on your knees and lick the floor? All I did yesterday was help Ethan out with something, and now you're throwing a pity party. Who are you trying to impress?"

"That wedding—you knew it was fake. So why are you acting crazy now?"

"A fake wedding—could it possibly be more important than someone's life?"

She still thought I was angry about her missing the wedding.

Did she really think that's all I, Maxwell, cared about?

For five long years, I had been less of a boyfriend and more of a doormat, a minor figure in her life.

Even her assistant, Ethan, could step all over me.

I understood she had to manage the company and entertain clients; I accepted that we couldn't have a normal relationship like other couples.

But why was Ethan always the one who got to go shopping with her?

And was it a discussion about work?

And when it got too late, they would book a hotel room together, and Ethan would use her phone to block me, sending messages.

With the room number and photos of the two of them.

[Maxwell, I'll take good care of Nora. You should rest early!]

He certainly did take good care of her—so much so that Nora no longer needed me.

I stared coldly at Nora, "Lives are indeed important, but my father's life doesn't matter, does it, Nora?"

Her expression darkened instantly.

Dragging my suitcase to the door, I was about to leave when Nora couldn't hold back her anger any longer.

"Are you hell-bent on acting crazy today? Fine, I'll go to the hospital and apologize to your dad!"

"If not, How about I bring Ethan along and apologize in person?"

"Would that be enough? Should I have him show your dad the hospital bill for his IV treatment?"

Her words ignited a blazing fire in my chest, my breath quickening with fury.

If my dad and I were such unreasonable people in her eyes, was there any point in continuing the conversation?

Seeing something was off with me, Nora's eyes flickered with confusion, and she stepped forward to grab me.

But Ethan stopped her.

"His ticket was fake, so he shouldn't have arrived yet. Maxwell probably isn't mad about his dad; he's just upset that you missed the wedding yesterday. It's fine, I can explain everything to him with proof from the hospital."

The anger erupted in my chest, burning away all my remaining restraint.

The next second, I grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table and smashed it against his head.