That's Not My Home

“When you told me that this child was an accident and shouldn’t have come into this world, I thought it was you who shouldn’t have been born. Your mother should have killed you in her womb, or taken you with her when she died,” Eulalia’s voice was icy.

“You deserve to be parentless and unloved!”

Words, such potent tools, can express love deeply but can also cut sharply when used to hurt someone, like a dagger that can stab and leave a person bleeding profusely.

Once deeply in love, these two now pressured each other with the most venomous words. If she had a dagger in her hand, she would not hesitate to thrust it into his chest.

Percival inhaled deeply, trying to calm his chaotic emotions, but it was futile; his blood felt frozen. The repressed feelings seemed to have no outlet.

Had anyone else spoken to him like that, he would have slapped them hard, the kind that could cripple or kill.

The death of his parents was a wound that never healed, even after so many years. Just thinking ab