Chapter 4

In return, insults and disdain were all I received.

The room was in a mess because my condition had deteriorated rapidly. My mother had rushed over to get some clothes and then hurried off to the ICU to take care of me.

As my wife, she did not even take the initiative to call me after such a long time. If she cared about me, she would have shown at least some level of concern, even if I said it was a stomach problem.

It was ridiculous that I was even afraid it would trigger her painful memories of having cancer when she came to the hospital and saw the furnishings of the intensive care unit. It turned out that I was just overthinking things.

I simply could not face her and drifted out of the house.

Anthony was standing far away and answering his phone, his expression full of smugness. "That stupid Jane believes whatever I say. She even thinks I can really make her rich. Then again, someone who can't tell right from wrong deserves to be deceived! Her husband is so kind to her, yet she doesn't even ask about him when he's hospitalized.

"I was only teasing her, telling her to shoot a few sexy, borderline photos and model for us for free. She actually said yes. Babe, don't misunderstand. I have no feelings for her at all. She was pretty back then, but now..."

Anthony scoffed, his face full of disdain. "She has no boobs; any woman would be better than her. Oh, she's not flat-chested; she had breast cancer and had them removed. Tsk tsk, I really don't know why her stupid husband treats her like a treasure."

I stood there in a daze, feeling both sorry for myself and furious at Jane's poor judgment. I pondered how Jane could get tricked by the same person twice.

I rushed back, wanting to drag her out and make her hear it herself to see how despicable her first love was and how he treated her trauma as a joke.

However, my hands became transparent when I touched her. I paced frantically around the room, but there was nothing I could do.

Jane threw the rag, looked around, and seemed lost in thought.

"Why did he stop calling? Is he really angry? I only mortgaged the house to get through an emergency," she muttered to herself, a hint of worry in her eyes.

"He better not get too worked up. His stomach's been acting up. How about I... make a call?" She gripped her phone, seemingly hesitant about whether to contact me.

After all, I was always the one offering her a way out, always sweet-talking to appease her; we had rarely argued.

However, with a knock on the door, she quickly composed herself.

Outside the door stood not only Anthony, but also my mother, holding Maya.

The two were staring at each other.

Seeing Jane, my mother's suppressed grief seemed to erupt immediately. "Gale called you so many times; why didn't you answer? Jane, tell me, how did Gale treat you? Search your conscience! He felt sorry for you having no parents, always telling us to be considerate of you, but what did you do? How did you treat my son?"

My mother was trembling all over. It felt like she would not have the strength even to stand had she not been holding Maya.

Jane was a little embarrassed, forcing a weak smile. "Mom, I was just busy with work. Besides, you know what Gale is like. He's just sulking with me. His stomachache is nothing serious and doesn't warrant hospitalization. I know him best; he's just too dramatic sometimes."

My mother pointed at her angrily, her hand trembling. "Stomachache? Nothing serious? He's being dramatic? Jane, you don't even know what illness he had! And yet you have the nerve to call him dramatic?! He's dead, do you know that?!"

Jane paused, instinctively reaching for my mother.

My mother raised her hand and pushed her away.

Anthony stepped forward, blocking Jane. "Old lady, calm down and talk. No offense, but at your age, how can you curse your own son?"