My Blood for Her Life, My Death for His Regret

By accident, I once overheard him say he liked obedient children.

So I tried my best to be quiet and cautious in front of him, but that only made me “a block of wood.”

No matter what I did, he and Mom both seemed doomed to be objects of his dislike.

“Richard, my daughter and I waited half the day for you. What does it mean that you’ve brought them back here?”

Mom, who had been silently holding back tears, finally burst out.

“Didn’t you once promise me you’d cut ties with Olivia Grant?”

“This is our home. Our daughter is still here. This isn’t some hotel!”

“Anyone who didn’t know better would think Olivia was just some woman you picked up outside.”

Her sarcasm made Richard’s face darken instantly.

“Say that again if you dare.”

It looked as if they were about to fight.

Olivia stepped forward, feigning gentleness.

“Richard, don’t fight with Linda. Don’t let me come between you two.”

“It’s my fault and Emily’s. We just returned to the States and had nowhere to stay. One night on your couch would have been enough.”

Richard’s face softened with pity.

“How could I let you sleep on the couch? Even if you don’t mind, I won’t let Emily suffer.”

“No matter what, you two will sleep in the master bedroom tonight.”

I pressed my lips tightly together, watching the tender bond between them. So, sleeping on a couch was suffering?

Then what about when Richard thought I was disobedient, and punished me by making me sleep in the dog kennel?

But Mom always worried about me. I never dared say anything.

Olivia didn’t refuse again and went upstairs with him toward the master bedroom.

As she turned back, she flashed a triumphant smile.

“Linda, sorry for the trouble, but you’ll have to take the guest room tonight.”

Then she winked at her daughter. “Go to Daddy. He’ll tell you a bedtime story.”

Emily ran over and hugged Richard’s leg.

“Daddy!”

He immediately smiled indulgently, stroked her head, and scooped her into his arms.

“Of course, my little princess. How about a bedtime story? Want to hear Snow White?”

I stared enviously as they disappeared upstairs.

Ever since I could remember, my dream had been to hear my dad tell me a bedtime story.

Even if he didn’t tell one—even just quietly tucking me in would have been enough.

But even that had become a luxury.

Seeing my tears fall, Mom pulled me close and cried too.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. It’s all my fault…”

I wiped her tears and whispered, “No, Sophie doesn’t blame Mom. It’s Daddy… Daddy is the one who’s wrong…”

That night, Mom packed our suitcases, determined to take me away.

But as we reached the door, Olivia’s sobbing voice drifted down from upstairs.

“Richard, I never meant to ruin your marriage. I don’t know why this happened. I only came to stay one night, but your wife is making a scene, threatening to leave. Isn’t she just embarrassing me?”

Richard’s gaze turned icy as he looked toward us.

“Linda, stop right there!”

He stormed over and kicked our suitcase to the ground.

Then he barked at Mom:

“Olivia wants a late-night snack. Go make it.”

Mom bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, but she didn’t move.

“Richard, I’m your wife, not your maid.”

He let out a cold laugh.

“Linda, what makes you think you’re worthy of being my wife?”