The Wife He Forgot To Love Chapter 09
Overwhelmed with grief, she murmured, “Dani, I’m here. I brought your favorite prunes. Didn’t you love eating them as a kid?”
When Daniela was sick once, Jaelyn brought her prunes for the first time. Daniela had remembered that taste since then, even though Jaelyn never bought them again.
It was a surprise that Jaelyn didn’t forget it.
After a while, Jaelyn stood up and walked to Jonathan, her eyes swollen and her voice hoarse.
“Jon, did Dani say anything before she passed away?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“Did she mention me?”
Silence stretched on.
Jaelyn cried again.
She covered her face and sank to her knees. “I figured. She always hates my guts.”
“Jaelyn, Dani never hates you. If she did, she would have cut ties with you long ago and wouldn’t have lived in such pain.”
Jonathan finally spoke. His voice was rough, edged with frost.
He discovered the truth in Daniela’s diary.
From his pocket, he retrieved the diary, turned to the last page, and passed it to Jaelyn.
Jaelyn took it and saw the line: “Mom, I wish you had never loved me.”
“It runs in the family,” she muttered to herself. “My mother did the same. She favored the boys and left the girls to fend for themselves. I thought that was just the way things were.”
Bradley arrived at the funeral on the third day.
He didn’t travel from home.
He had been hiding out elsewhere for two days.
He couldn’t find the courage to come.
He didn’t want to see the cross, the white casket, or his sister lying lifelessly inside.
But eventually, he showed up.
He wore a black jacket, his jaw unshaven and his hair disheveled, and he looked utterly drained.
With a conflicted expression, he stood outside.
When he saw Jonathan, he tried to speak, but no sound escaped.
Then he crouched down.
He clutched his head, his shoulders shaking violently.
He didn’t cry like Jaelyn. He wept in silence.
After a long while, he raised his head.
His eyes were red-rimmed, snot dripping from his nose, and he could barely make his voice heard.
“Jonathan, before she was gone, did she say anything about me?”
Jonathan stared at him.
He recalled the last time Daniela mentioned Bradley was a week before she killed herself.
They had a huge fight because Bradley asked her for money again.
Daniela said her brother was knee-deep in debts, and she couldn’t turn her back on him. But he told her to cut him off.
She said nothing.
She sat on the couch, hugged a pillow, lowered her head, and after a long time, she said, “He’s the only person who has protected me as a kid.”
She emphasized the word “only.”
Back then, he couldn’t understand, but now, he did.
When her father beat her up, only Bradley stepped in to protect her.
The seven-year-old, as thin as a rake with blood running from his nose, defied their father. “If you’re going to beat her, you have to beat me first.”
Daniela carried that memory with her for the rest of her life.
She remembered everyone’s kindness and forgot everyone’s faults.
But Bradley forgot.
He forgot that he used to save candy for Daniela.
He forgot to console her when she cried.
He forgot that he once told her, “Dani, when I start making money, we’ll finally live a good life.”
But all he ever did was ask her for money.
Jonathan stared at him and said, “She said she doesn’t hate you and hopes you can turn over a new leaf and have a good life.”
Pain flashed across Bradley’s face.
He burst into tears and trembled all over.
He repeated “I’m sorry” over and over again.
To the cross, to the white casket, and to himself.
But no one responded to him.
Daniela’s POV
On the fourth day, Jonathan returned home. For the past few days, Pauline had been taken care of by Alicia. She kept crying for Mom. I watched her cry her heart out, watched her finally run out of energy and slowly fall asleep, only to wake up and cry again. Even though I was already dead, my heart still ached so much.
“I am sorry, baby,” I murmured. “The most regretful thing I did in this life was bringing you into this world. I really could not hold on any longer.”
Third person’s POV
Jonathan opened the bathroom door. The water had dried, leaving a layer of white water stains on the floor tiles. The bathroom door was broken and left ajar. The bathtub was empty, with only a faint pink hue embedded in the grout of the edge tiles.