The Day He Learned the Truth, I Was Already Dead Chapter 09

The Day He Learned the Truth, I Was Already Dead Chapter 09

Perfect timing, Ava came home just then, looping her arm through his, her voice syrupy. “Brandon, I heard you had someone looking for me. Are you planning a surprise?”

She blinked up at him with those innocent eyes, while Brandon’s stare cut into her like a blade, and her spine visibly tightened.

She barely had time to speak before his hand closed around her throat. He shoved her down the hallway and into the basement, forcing her face-to-face with the men on the floor.

The moment she saw them, her whole body went rigid.

Brandon’s voice came out low and ruined. “From the day I met you, what have I not given you? Why did you have to do this to Sylvia? Why did you lead me into hurting her?”

Ava looked at his livid face and knew he’d learned everything. She reached for the same weapon she’d always used, tears.

“Brandon… I was just scared you wouldn’t want me anymore,” she cried with a tone of grievance. “I did it just because I didn’t want to leave you.”

But this time, Brandon did not soften. He kicked her away like she was trash on his shoe. “From the day I brought Sylvia home, I promised you I would never throw you out! You knew I keep my word, and you still did it!”

“You malicious bitch! You killed her and pushed her to a dead end!” He looked like he was gonna tear her apart with his bare hands. Then something colder took over. Sylvia had suffered too long for Ava to get an easy ending.

The thought drove him to life his hand and made a simple gesture, letting the men in the basement abuse Ava however they pleased.

For three straight nights, her screams bled through the walls. The house that once sparkled with wealth sounded like a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

I’d spent years wishing Brandon would learn the truth, would finally look at me, would finally believe me. But when it happened, I floated above it all, quiet and distant, watching like a stranger.

After that, Brandon lived inside regret and pain like it was a locked room. He donated everything he owned, emptied his empire down to the last cent.

He knelt at his parents’ grave for a whole week. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hollow enough to echo. “Mom, Dad… I failed Sylvia. I’m guilty. I’ll pay for it with my life.”

He stood up like a man already dead and walked to the sea. Step by step, he went forward, eyes closed, until the waves swallowed him.

That was when my soul began to fade, too, dissolving into something lighter than air. Through the blur, I heard his voice one last time, familiar and broken.

“Sylvia… I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If there’s a next life, let me make it up to you.”

I smiled and shook my head. “No, thanks. Sylvia Wilcox’s life is hard enough.”