After I Married an Infertile woman, She Went Crazy Begging for Forgiveness

I said, "Vanessa, I'm leaving the Shelby Family."

When she was nine, Vanessa said she would give me a home. But now, that home was gone and it was time to say goodbye.

She dried Declan's hands and kissed his fingertips, her expression barely changing. She said, "Say that again."

I took a deep breath and repeated, "I said, you and Declan are getting married and I'm just an outsider. I should leave, like the other ninety-eight candidates. Vanessa, this isn't a request, it's a notice."

"Notice?" Vanessa didn't even realize how her tone shifted.

"Allen, is that vegetative father of yours planning to stop treatment?" She spoke with a near-threatening tone.

My body stiffened, memories from my previous life made me tremble. She had once fallen into my arms, only to later pushed me into a coffin with cold hands.

Too bad for her, no matter how domineering she was, she didn't expect that I'd be getting married soon.

In the past, when we were on good terms, I used to threaten her with leaving the Shelby Family whenever we argued, to make her back down.

But now, I didn't need her to back down. This time, I truly was leaving.

Vanessa stayed silent for a long time, then sneered, "If you're scared, then stay here obediently. Declan needs a personal servant. Especially on our wedding night, you can warm the bed for us."

Declan blushed and quickly hugged Vanessa while said, "Vanessa, that's too much ..."

She grabbed his hand and stood up, "Don't be shy. Come, I will take you somewhere fun."

His leather shoe kicked me aside and I landed in shattered glass. I use medical tweezers, I picked the fragments out of my leg and applied ointment casually.

I returned to the room where I had lived for twenty years. Tried to pack like those novel protagonists I'd read about. But I realized, there was nothing that truly belonged to me.

Vanessa used to take photos with me. At some point, the people in our photos froze in time, ten years ago.

Declan had been abroad for ten years and she missed him for ten years.

The darkroom in her bridal suite was filled wall-to-wall with candid photos of Declan, taken by private investigators.

I stuffed my ID into my pocket and sat blankly on the bed.

My phone buzzed. A message from the nurse at the hospital: [Mr. Patterson, your father just regained a little consciousness. He's calling your name!]

I limped my way to the hospital. There, I heard my father, lay on the bed, weakly whispered my name. This never happened in the previous life.

Last time, around this point, the power went out in the ward and my dad died within a minute without the ventilator.

For someone in a vegetative state, any improvement was a miracle. Maybe, in this life, I could live to see my father open his eyes again. The nurse thoughtfully left us alone.

I sat by the bed and held his hand, I said, "I'm leaving the Shelby Family. Those people have nothing to do with me anymore."

"I'm sorry. I didn't manage to protect the lavender you gave me. Dad ... can you wake up and tell me ... where you found those seeds ..." I bowed my head and let my tears fall.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I've been looking all over, turns out you're in here mourning." Declan strolled in, his arms crossed and his steps swaggered. He glanced at me and smirked.

I wiped away my tears and asked, "What do you want?"

He lifted his leg and kicked the hospital bed. The machines hooked up to the wires started beeping.

He tilted his chin arrogantly and said, "I heard from my mom that you're marrying that psycho woman?"

I stayed silent, watched him warily.

He asked again, "Technically, I shouldn't care if you marry a beggar. But I heard ... you know my secret?"