His Wife by Fate, His Ruin by Choice

“James, I’m leaving the Grey Family.” Nine-year-old James once promised to give me a home.

But now that home was gone and it was time for me to say goodbye.

James Burn wiped Julia Watson’s hand clean and kissed her fingertips lightly. His expression barely changed.

“Say that again,” he said flatly.

I took a deep breath. “I said, you and Miss Julia are getting married and I’m nothing but an outsider. Just like the other ninety-eight candidates. I should leave.”

“James, this isn’t a request. It’s a notice.”

“Notice?!” His tone shifted without him even realizing it. “Jacqueline Smith,” he sneered, “that vegetable father of yours, is he giving up treatment?”

His voice had a threatening edge that made me freeze. Memories from my past life made me tremble. He had once embraced me, only to push me into a coffin with those same cold hands.

It was a pity. No matter how possessive James Burn once was, he never imagined I’d soon marry someone else.

Before, when I wanted him to soften, I threatened to leave the Grey Family. But now, I didn’t need his softness anymore. I really needed to go.

After a long silence, James snorted.

“If you’re so scared, then stay put. Julia needs a personal maid, especially on our wedding night. You can warm the bed for us.”

Julia blushed, lightly tapping his chest with her small pink fist.

“James, shame on you.”

James caught her delicate white hand, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug.

“What are you shy about? Come, I’ll take you out to play.”

She kicked me with her small high heel as she walked past, sending me crashing into shards of glass.

I picked up the medical tweezers and calmly removed the broken pieces from my leg. Then I applied antiseptic as if it were nothing.

I returned to the room I’d lived in for twenty years. I tried to pack like some fictional heroine from a novel I’d once read. But quickly realized, none of it belonged to me.

James used to take pictures with me. But at some point, the person in the photos was always a ten-year-old girl. Julia had been abroad for ten years and he had spent those years longing for her.

The dark wedding chamber was plastered wall-to-wall with photos of Julia, secretly taken by a private investigator. All obsessively.

I stuffed my documents into my pocket and sat dazed at the edge of the bed.

My phone vibrated, a message from the hospital caretaker.

“Miss Audrey, your father just regained some consciousness. He’s calling your name!”

I limped to the hospital. There, I heard my father weakly call my name in a barely audible whisper.

That hadn’t happened in my previous life.

Back then, the power went out and the ventilator shut off. He died within a minute.

But now, he spoke my name. For someone in a vegetative state, this was a miracle. Maybe, just maybe, I would live to see him open his eyes.

The caretaker left us alone, giving me a warm smile on her way out. I sat beside the bed, holding his hand tightly.

“I’m leaving the Grey Family. Those people… they’ll have nothing to do with me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep the lavender you gave me.”

“Dad, can you get up and tell me… where did you find those seeds?”

I bowed my head and let the tears fall freely.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… I’ve been looking everywhere for you. And here you are, crying over a dying man.”

Julia stood at the doorway, arms crossed, swaying her hips with a smirk. Her eyes narrowed as she sauntered in.

I wiped away my tears. “What are you doing here?”

Julia lifted her foot and kicked the hospital bed. The monitors beeped in protest as the connected machines jolted.

She tilted her chin arrogantly. “I heard Mommy say you’re planning to marry that pervert?”

I didn’t respond. I just stared at her, wary.

“It shouldn’t be my business if you want to marry a beggar,” she sneered. “But I heard you know my secret?”