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Chapter 109
Yvan thought she had temporarily calmed down as he watched her return to her room and quietly lie down, but little did he know, it was all an act – a pretense of tranquility in the aftermath of the storm.
When Yvan left for the office, Matilda took matters into her own hands, handling her discharge. She cleaned herself up, tended to her wounds, and applied her makeup with a frightening level of composure.
It was like the last surge of energy in someone on the brink of death.
Matilda left the hospital in a hurry, picking up a cake on her way home. Upon arriving, she tidied the entire house and then prepared a spread of dishes, placing the cake in the center with candles on top.
She watched silently as the candles burned down. As if the flames were a metaphor for her own life flickering away.
Staring at the candle, Matilda whispered softly after a long while, “Gideon, happy birthday. I’m sorry I couldn’t celebrate with you, and now, your life is forever frozen at 27.”
Matilda didn’t cry. She sat down to eat, then cut a piece of cake, setting it aside for Logan. She knew that if Logan realized he had missed his uncle’s birthday, he would throw a tantrum for a slice of cake. But Matilda couldn’t bring herself to deliver it to the Boyd family for Logan; she couldn’t face Yvan anymore.
Facing him would unleash the uncontrollable pain and hatred within her, turning her into a devil. Yvan, the man who ruined her life, the nightmare she couldn’t escape!
Matilda’s thoughts were clouded with grief and pain. From the initial shock to the eventual screaming, it seemed as if she had exhausted all her strength in her defiance and attempts to wound Yvan.
It was only in these quiet moments alone that the immense, tidal pain crashed over her, leaving her most vulnerable and desperate, yet terrifyingly silent.
True despair wasn’t wailing or thrashing about–it was this deadly stillness.
Her eyes reddened as she finished eating and cleared the table. She tried to muster a smile, but her lips were too heavy. Eventually, she sank back into the couch, burying her head in her hands. Her body convulsed like a trapped animal, emitting a subdued, agonized growl- as if trying to shatter her own soul.
At that moment, Matilda thought of someone who might help her deliver the cake to Logan. She reached for her phone, only to remember it had smashed on the doorstep of the Boyd Mansion–she was cut off from any means of communication.
After a long silence, Matilda decided to leave the house. She went to a nearby phone store, randomly selected a model, and got a new number. Returning home, she searched for a
10:28
business card and dialed the number.
After a long wait, the call connected, and Mason’s voice came through colder than usual. “Who is this?” he inquired.
A flurry of thoughts crossed Matilda’s mind before she finally spoke, “Mason, it’s me, Matilda.” Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.
Hearing her name seemed to strike a nerve in Mason’s mind, his expression hardening as he reflexively asked, “Why did you switch numbers?”
“I…” Matilda struggled to explain, “My phone broke on the doorstep of the Boyds. I… I need to ask you for a favor.”
The doorstep of the Boyds? Why was Matilda still entangled with Yvan after everything?
A surge of anger, unbidden, filled Mason’s mind. He shouldn’t be getting angry; he wasn’t the type to be easily swayed.
But the words that escaped his lips betrayed his fury. “Matilda, don’t you think you should have some self–respect? Why are you going back to Yvan again?”