The Wife He Tried To Erase Chapter 16
After returning from Zurich, Nicholas fell ill.
It was not a physical illness, but a mental one.
People in New York all said that Mr. Gallagher had gone mad.
He dissolved the board of directors, delegated power to professional managers, and moved back alone into that dark, damp basement.
The doctor had come several times, and the diagnosis read: severe depression, accompanied by serious self-destructive tendencies.
He began to starve himself.
At first, he went a day without eating, then three days, then four.
Only when he rolled on the floor in pain could he feel a trace of being alive.
“It hurts so much…”
He curled up in the darkness, his fingers digging into the floor so hard that his nails lifted and blood flowed freely.
“Emmy, did it hurt this much for you back then?”
“Or was it even worse than this?”
He began to hallucinate.
He saw Emilia in that white dress, sitting in front of the easel, smiling at him.
He reached out to embrace her, but his arms closed around nothing but emptiness.
He saw Emilia, covered in blood, standing in the corner crying, calling “Nicky, save me.” He rushed over, smashing his head and bleeding, but caught only a handful of air.
He finally understood that kind of despair.
He called to the heavens and the earth, but no one answered.
In the past six months, he had done only one thing.
Liquidating assets.
On a sunny afternoon, Elroy entered the basement with red-rimmed eyes.
“Mr. Gallagher, all the procedures are complete.”
Nicholas leaned against the headboard, so thin he was unrecognizable, his eye sockets deeply sunken.
He took the documents, his hands trembling so badly that it took him five minutes just to sign his name.
“All the Gallagher Group’s liquid assets, real estate, and all shares under my name are to be donated to the Rachel Charity Foundation.”
“All the Gallagher Group’s liquid assets, real estate, and all shares under my name are to be donated to the Rachel Charity Foundation.”
“The foundation’s sole beneficiary is Emilia. Make it clear in the terms: it is mainly for helping women who have suffered domestic violence or psychological control. And… has Rachel’s grave been completed?”
“It’s done,” Elroy choked out.
“In the Evergreens Cemetery, the most beautiful place in the suburbs of New York, as you instructed, it has been made into a garden, filled with Mrs. Gallagher’s favorite hydrangeas.”
“That’s good… that’s good…”
Nicholas murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
It was what he owed her.
He had stopped his mother-in-law’s medication and caused her death.
Now, he gave everything of the Gallagher family to this foundation, as a small compensation to his mother-in-law.
Although this compensation came too late, and was too tainted.
“Mr. Gallagher, why do you have to do this…” Elroy could not help but cry out, “Please keep some money for treatment, the doctor said as long as you cooperate…”
“It’s useless.”
Nicholas waved his hand, his gaze falling on the black recorder at the head of the bed.
“A dead heart cannot be healed.”
“You should go too. From now on… don’t come back.”
Elroy knelt and kowtowed three times, then left in tears.
The basement returned to its deathly silence.
Nicholas picked up the recorder and pressed the play button for the one hundredth and first time.
“Nicholas, it hurts so much…”
“Nicholas, I think… I don’t love you anymore.”
He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his gaunt cheeks.
Today was the day Emilia received the “Golden Paintbrush Award.”
It was the highest honor in the art world, and she was the first American woman to win it.
Nicholas opened the iPad he had prepared long ago and entered the livestream.
On the screen, the lights were dazzling.
Emilia wore a black evening gown, noble and cold, like a reborn black swan.
She stood on the podium, holding the golden trophy in her hands, her smile confident and composed.
Thunderous applause erupted from the audience.
Zachary sat in the front row, gazing at her with deep affection.
How wonderful.
She finally stood in the light.
She had finally broken free from his muddy past.
Nicholas stared blankly at the screen, his fingers gently caressing her face on the display.
“Emmy, look, you did it.”
“You don’t need me, and you can soar this high.”
He took a bottle of pills from under his pillow.
They were not ordinary sleeping pills, but high-concentration sedatives he had specially asked the doctor to prescribe for “controlling” Emilia’s condition.
Once overdosed, the heart would stop suddenly, beyond rescue.
He poured out a handful, mixed them with the cleaned pink diamond ring, and held them together in his palm.
The ring pressed painfully into his palm.
He picked up the glass of water, and without the slightest hesitation, swallowed the entire bottle of pills.
The bitter taste spread in his throat.
He lay back on the bed, clutching the ring tightly to his chest—the very spot where Emilia had last thrown it away.
The effect of the drugs came quickly.
His consciousness began to blur, his limbs grew heavy.
Darkness surged in like a tide, and this time, he did not resist.
In a daze, he seemed to return to ten years ago.
That car accident, flames soaring into the sky.
He waited for death in despair, when suddenly, a pair of soft yet strong hands grabbed him.
“Don’t be afraid, I’ll get you out!”
The girl had bright eyes and a butterfly-shaped birthmark on her arm.
It was Emilia.
It was the Emilia who had truly loved him.
“Emmy…”
Nicholas reached out into the void, a trace of satisfied smile on his lips.
“I’ve given my life back to you…”
“This time, I don’t hurt anymore…”
“This time, I don’t hurt anymore…”
“If there is another life… let me be the one to stay in that fire for you…”
The iPad screen was still glowing.
In the livestream, the host asked Emilia, “Ms. Barnett, your series ‘Rebirth’ and ‘One Hundred Deaths’ have shocked the world. May I ask where your inspiration comes from? Is there anyone you especially want to thank, or perhaps forget?”
Emilia held the microphone, her gaze piercing through the camera as if seeing through time and space.
She was silent for two seconds, then smiled faintly.
“No one.”
“Those are just creative materials. As for the dead past, I never look back.”
Her voice was clear and resolute, spreading through the internet to every corner of the world.
It also reached the basement.
That was the last sentence Nicholas ever heard.
The hand stretched into the void fell weakly.
The light from the screen gradually dimmed.
Nicholas closed his eyes and stopped breathing.
Nicholas closed his eyes and stopped breathing.
The pink diamond ring in his hand rolled to the floor, making a crisp sound.
It sounded just like the shattering of a dream back then.