My Husband Stayed With His Childhood Love—Our Daughter Called Him Stranger Chapter 06

My Husband Stayed With His Childhood Love—Our Daughter Called Him Stranger Chapter 06

Nathaniel stood outside the hospital and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.

The smoke finally began to clear. He rushed back inside and pushed open the hospital room door.

The bed was empty. The sheets were folded, neat and untouched. The IV stand stood bare.

He grabbed a passing nurse. “The patient in this room—where is she?”

“Already discharged.”

“Who signed her out? When?”

“Just after five this morning. The family member signed and took the child.”

She pulled her arm free and pushed her cart away without a backward glance.

Nathaniel drove straight back to the house.

He punched in the door code three times. Error. Every time.

The door suddenly opened from inside.

A stranger stood there wearing house slippers and holding a cup of coffee. “Can I help you?”

“This is my house.”

“Sorry, man, but I already closed on this place.” The man looked him over. “You the previous owner?”

Nathaniel said nothing.

The man turned and walked inside, picking up a courier envelope from the entry cabinet.

“A package showed up here a couple of days ago. Addressed to Nathaniel Beckett.”

“I checked the contract from the sale and saw this address was still on file.”

He handed the envelope over. “Must’ve been misdelivered.”

Nathaniel took it.

No return address. Only the recipient and his company address.

His hands shook as he tore it open.

Inside were two documents. A divorce agreement. And a property sale deed.

On the last page, her signature was already there. Dated days ago.

The papers shook in his hands, the rustle loud in the silence.

The man gave him one last look, then shut the door.

Nathaniel stepped back into the yard.

He sank down onto the front steps. His gaze drifted across the yard—his yard, that no longer felt like his at all.

Then he saw it. In the corner of the yard, beside the trash bin, sat a transparent sealed bag.

He walked over and crouched down.

Inside was a necklace. He knew it right away.

It was the one he had made with his own hands on their fifth wedding anniversary.

He had spent half a month polishing it himself. A hand-carved diamond necklace.

Beside it was a folded dustproof garment bag.

He opened it. Inside was the starry-sky princess dress. Or what was left of it.

The shredded pieces had been roughly taped back together, but it no longer looked anything like a dress.

Beneath it lay a piece of paper. He pulled it out. It was Grace’s drawing.

A chaotic tangle of black lines. Like a storm. Like a vortex.

And in the middle of it all, a tiny car.

Beside it stood two figures. An adult and a child. Surrounded completely by darkness.

In the bottom right corner, in that wobbly, childish handwriting: [That man killed me in the rain.]

Nathaniel’s fingers closed around the paper, crushing it.

He sank to his knees in the muddy yard.

Rainwater from the night before still pooled in the mud, soaking through his trousers as he knelt there, motionless.

He pressed the drawing against his chest.

From deep in his throat came a sound. Not a cry. Not a shout. Something worse. A raw, strangled howl.

Then suddenly he bent forward.

A mouthful of blood surged up and splattered into the mud. It bloomed red across the water’s surface.

He stayed in that position, frozen.

Blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth.