Tale of Two Lives

In my past life, I had gone to the hospital with them.

On the way there, a fatigued truck driver rammed straight into the ambulance, and I shielded Horace with my body, taking most of the impact and ending up becoming disabled as a result.

Horace's parents were so moved by my sacrifice that they forced him to marry me, and from that moment on, Horace loathed me to the core, even though I saved his life.

After we got married, he practically tortured me in bed, but forced me to take birth control each time afterwards.

It was only until Vivian came crying to him, saying that she had acute leukemia and needed a newborn's umbilical cord blood to survive that he allowed me to stop taking birth control.

That night, for the first time, he was gentle when he touched me.

"Let's have a baby. Then, even if I was no longer around, our child would be able to take care of you."

I was moved beyond words, and after I got pregnant, I refused to have an abortion, even at the threat of my life.

When my child was about to be born, they made love on the sofa in my bedroom, thinking that I was asleep. That was when I knew that my child and I were only useful tools for him to save Vivian.

I sacrificed my future, only to get a marriage filled with deceit and violence in return.

Shaking away the memories in my head, I went back to my bedroom. It was clear that Vivian had an allergic reaction, so I sent the sheets for testing.

Because I used my connections to have the process expedited, I got the test results immediately the next day.

From the report, acrylic polymers were found in the bedsheets. Clearly, Vivian had done it on purpose.

After saving the evidence, I started packing the things, much to the distress of Agnes, who had taken care of me all this while.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Miss! I'll tell Master and Madam about this!"

I forced myself not to cry.

Even a nanny trusted me, yet Horace was convinced of my crimes without even asking.

None of that mattered, though. I should have left ages ago.

As I wiped my tears dry and bid a final farewell, Agnes held a cup in my direction.

"This is the cup the Master Horace gave you. Don't you want it anymore?"

Yes, that was a cup that Horace had made himself.

Back in the day, he studied how to do pottery to make me happy, getting burnt by the furnace in the process.

I treated the cup as a sign of his love for me, taking it out and looking at it fondly each and every day.

But now, as I looked at the cup that I used to think was the prettiest in the world, I found that there was nothing about it that I found good anymore.

After a single glance, I said, "I don't."

Halfway down the road, Horace called me.

Without even picking up, I knew that he wanted me to go to the hospital, but why should I apologize for something I didn't do?

After deliberately ignoring many of his calls, Horace started blasting me with messages out of frustration. I didn't want to check them, but the incessant vibrations were making me lose my mind.

I took out my phone, preparing to block him, only to see the threats he sent.

"If I don't see you at the hospital within half an hour, everyone will know that your father was a scammer!"

At that moment, my heart clenched uncontrollably.

Now that I was one step away from leaving, I didn't want anything to drag me down.

Without any other choice, I went to the hospital with the evidence I had collected.

Horace was waiting outside the hospital ward, his face as cold as winter frost.

"Agnes said you moved out. Why?"

I was stunned. Why was that the first question he asked?

"Weren't you the one who asked me to leave?"

"I didn't tell you to leave!" He gritted his teeth. "I just wanted you to recognize your standing—"

Cutting him off, I continued, "My standing, and that I'm not worthy of being your wife! I got it, so I chose to leave. Is there any problem with that?"

"Why, you!"

Not wanting to hear another word, I gave him the report.

"I tested Vivian's bed sheets, and—"

The next moment, Horace snatched the report away and lit it up with a lighter.

"Don't you dare incriminate her with this fake evidence! She even defended you, saying that you didn't do it on purpose! No wonder your dad abandoned you back then!"

A sharp pain pierced my heart.

Of course. Only those closest to you know exactly how to wound you the deepest.

I bent down and picked up the half-burnt report, letting the fire lick my hand.

"Are you crazy?!"

Horace hurriedly took my hand, checking for any wounds.

I quickly shook him off, shouting, "Don't touch me!"

Looking down at his empty hand, Horace was silent for a moment, before he asked, "Where did you move to?"

"That's got nothing to do with you."

I turned to leave, but I had barely opened the door to the stairwell before I was suddenly pinned against it.

Leaning in close, Horace said, "Did I say you could leave?"