The Wife He Let Go: He Chose the Fake Heiress, I Chose Myself

The first dinner after moving back to the Whitmore house was lively.

Around the table, the family chatted and laughed, talking about business and the economy, a world Evelyn had never been part of.

She sat quietly in the farthest corner, head lowered as she pushed around the pasta in her plate, swallowing it mechanically.

Margaret picked up a tender piece of fish and placed it in Annelise's bowl. "Sweetheart, you haven't been home in so long. I had the chef make your favorite sea bass. Try it, see if you like it."

Only after speaking did Margaret notice Evelyn beside her, eating with her head down. The smile on her face froze.

She paused, then reluctantly picked up a piece of steak and placed it into Evelyn's plate. "You should eat too. Don't just have pasta."

Staring at the glossy piece of steak in her plate, Evelyn instinctively moved to push it away. "I don't want it."

The laughter around the table came to an abrupt stop.

Margaret's face went ashen, embarrassment and anger flickering in her eyes.

Under the table, Nathan gripped her hand tightly.

Only then did she realize she had said the wrong thing.

Her fork and knife hesitated midair before turning back. Fighting the nausea, she forced the steak into her mouth.

The woman who had bought her gave birth to a son the following year.

From then on, she became an unpaid servant, waking before dawn to cook, wash clothes, and feed the pigs.

At mealtimes, the woman would toss her two cold, cracked bread.

Once, starving, she couldn't help reaching for the steak on the table and took a small piece.

For that single bite, the woman hung her from a beam and whipped her over and over until she blacked out from the pain.

From that day on, she never touched steak again.

The greasy meat melted in her mouth. She gulped down water, trying to swallow it, but her vision began to darken.

In the final moment before she lost consciousness and collapsed at the table, only one thought filled her mind.

She had messed things up again. She had made everyone unhappy again.

When she opened her eyes again, all she saw was blinding white.

Margaret's eyes were red, her voice trembling. "If you didn't want to eat, then don't. Who forced you? Passing out like that… are you trying to accuse us of mistreating you?"

Richard stood beside her, holding her as his face turned grim.

Nathan looked at her coldly. "Apologize to Margaret. Now."

Evelyn's lips trembled, her voice hoarse. "Mom, Dad… I'm sorry. It's my fault."

But that apology only pushed Margaret over the edge.

Margaret shot to her feet. "Who are you putting on this innocent, pitiful act for? Do we owe you something? We should've never brought you back!"

With that, Margaret refused to look at her again and stormed out, dragging Richard along.

Nathan gave her a complicated look. "Annelise is handling your hospital bill. I'll go check on her. You… think about what you've done."

The hospital room fell silent, leaving Evelyn alone on the cold bed.

She slowly closed her eyes, a clear thought forming in her mind.

She never should have come back to the Whitmore family.

But when she thought of the bright, unhidden joy in Nathan's eyes, she forced herself to push that thought away.

For three years of marriage, she had stayed by his side through his downfall, through hardship and struggle. Yet she had never seen him smile like that, never seen him so light, so happy.

In seven days, she would leave this place behind, and she might never see them again.