My Husband Faked Our Marriage to Please My Best Friend Chapter 08

My Husband Faked Our Marriage to Please My Best Friend Chapter 08

After dealing with everything, Ethan returned to the hospital. 

He held me and spoke in a choked voice, with a trace of 

grievance. 

“Sophie, I avenged you. When are you going to wake up?” 

“I know I was wrong… I really know.” 

Every day, he stayed by my hospital bed without leaving. 

The doctor said I needed movement, so he learned to massage 

my arms and legs. He was clumsy at first, and often, as he worked, his eyes would turn red. 

He told me stories about our past. 

He talked about the first time we met, about the way I looked 

in a white dress. 

Halfway through, he couldn’t go on. 

He would only bury his face in my palm, his shoulders 

shaking. 

He refused to eat. 

The meals the caregiver brought went cold one after another. 

He refused to sleep too. 

Night after night, he sat beside the bed and stared at me, afraid he would miss the moment I opened my eyes. 

In just half a month, he lost so much weight that no trace 

remained of the once proud and spirited heir. 

Until that day, after handling the company work that had piled up, he dragged his exhausted body back to the hospital room. 

The bed was empty. 

The blanket was folded neatly, as if no one had ever lain there. 

He rushed out like a madman and grabbed a nurse. 

“Where is she? Where is she?” 

The nurse shook with fear. 

“Ms. River woke up this morning. She completed her discharge paperwork and left…” 

He froze where he stood. 

Then he clutched his chest in sudden pain and coughed up a 

mouthful of blood. 

Amid the shocked cries of everyone around him, he collapsed 

straight to the floor. 

After that day, he spent five years searching every place he could go. 

He turned over every corner of the city. 

But he found nothing. 

His health grew worse and worse. 

When he coughed, there were often streaks of blood, but he 

acted as if he couldn’t feel it. 

The day he finally found me, what greeted him was the news of 

my wedding. 

Like a madman, he drove toward that small town. 

All the way there, he coughed without stopping, and blood 

stained the steering wheel. 

His vision became more and more blurred. 

His hands shook so badly he could barely hold the wheel. 

In the end, the car flipped off a bridge. 

Even at the last moment of his life, he never got to see me one final time. 

When the news reached me, I was doing my makeup. 

My hand didn’t stop. 

I only gave a faint “Mm” and continued applying my lipstick. 

The wedding went ahead as planned. 

Inside the little church, sunlight poured through the stained–glass windows and fell across my white veil. 

Behind me lay everything from the past. 

Ahead of me was a brand–new beginning.