I Funded His Dreams, He Invested in My Infertile Wife

Garland’s POV

I was shaking with fury, rendered speechless by the nanny’s relentless accusations.

“Cherity,” Barrett choked out, stepping in, “don’t listen to Euphemia! I believe this isn’t something Garland would ever do…”

He must’ve heard the commotion and rushed in, tears streaming down his face.

He looked like his heart was breaking at the sight of his daughter crying.

Yet even then, he stood firm in defending me.

Cherity cast him a pained glance. “Someone take him back to his room to rest,” she said quietly.

The moment the housekeeper led Barrett away, Cherity pulled out a pistol and leveled it directly at my right arm.

With a deafening bang, she pulled the trigger.

A searing pain tore through me as I let out a bloodcurdling scream. Everyone around us was startled by the gunshot and immediately backed away, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.

Breathing hard, I looked up at her. “C-Cherity… You know everything about me… Do you really think… I’d hurt a child who just turned one month old?”

A flicker of doubt crossed her eyes, but she quickly turned her face away with a cold scoff.

“You’re jealous of Barrett. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do,” she believed.

Before walking out, she turned to the driver. “Take him to the hospital,” she ordered.

Without looking back at me, she left.

The pain overwhelmed me, and soon, everything faded to black.

When I came to, I was already in the hospital. The doctors had removed the bullet and stitched the wound with multiple sutures.

I lost count of how many times the nurses threw me looks full of pity.

I wasn’t deaf. I could hear their hushed conversations outside the curtain.

“Did you see? Sir Barrett twisted his ankle, and Ma’am Cherity carried him in herself. She stayed with him the whole day,” one whispered.

“But look at Sir Garland… He’s badly injured, yet his wife hasn’t even come to see him once,” another compared.

Trying to ignore them, I just stared blankly at the ceiling.

The only visitor I had was my brother, who brought me meals. He’d secretly wipe his tears when he thought I wasn’t looking.

That day, his eyes were bloodshot with anger.

“Bro, you never should’ve married that bitch,” he said bitterly.

“When I got here earlier,” he explained, “I saw her lighting fireworks with that guy. She’s completely forgotten who her husband is. You stayed by her side for eight damn years! What the hell was it all for?”

I forced a bitter smile.

“Soon enough, she and I will be nothing more than strangers,” I murmured.

Barrett’s POV

While on a trip on the beach with Cherity, I had tried pleading with her several times, always to the point crying.

“Cherity… Garland is your husband,” I said guiltily. “You injured him. You should go see him. Otherwise, I… I won’t be able to live with myself.”

Ruffling my hair gently, she sighed and said, “You’re really always so kind, my love.”

When she mentioned her husband, her voice turned cold, and she scoffed.

“Garland isn’t that fragile. He can take care of himself. He’s not like you—always needing someone by your side, needing care. Don’t worry about him,” she said firmly.

“And besides, he’s the one who hurt Cady,” she added, her tone turning sharp. “Thank goodness the doctor said she’s fine. If anything had happened to her, that bullet wouldn’t have just hit Garland’s arm.”

She pulled me into her arms, holding me tightly, as if afraid someone would take me away.

“From now on, no one is allowed to hurt you or Cady,” she whispered. “Whoever tries—I’ll make sure they regret it.”

For seven straight days, we traveled together. She stayed by my side, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the world belonged to just the three of us.

Garland’s POV

On the day I was discharged, I received a text message.

[Your identity cancellation has been successfully processed.]

Ashwyn had already packed my suitcase.

“Your essentials are ready, bro. If anything’s missing, just buy it once you get to Norway,” he said.

I nodded, and the two of us took a cab straight to the airport.

Standing outside the terminal, Ashwyn gave me a long, searching look.

“Bro… if you change your mind, there’s still time,” he said hesitantly.

I shook my head and smiled faintly. “Nah. I’m just wondering… why didn’t I see through it all sooner and leave earlier?”

Then I took a deep breath, snapped my SIM card in half, and tossed it into the trash.

“Let’s go,” I urged.

Boarding passes in hand, we walked straight onto the plane.

Ashwyn and I left New Jersey without looking back.