Lahat ng Kabanata ng He Broke Me, I Broke Us: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 8

I spent a year restoring my late mother-in-law's painting, even using a drop of my blood in the ink for symbolic meaning. I brought it home, excited to surprise my husband, Vincent Hawthorn.Before I could show it to him, his adopted sister, Camellia Waltz, tore the painting to shreds and dragged me into a locked room like I was a suspect. I was tied up for interrogation.When Vincent heard the news and came over, Camelia was full of tears, accusing, "Over here, Vince! It was this maid who tore apart Mom's painting!"With my mouth gagged and a hood over my head, I had no way to speak or defend myself. All I could do was struggle in vain.Amid the wreckage on the floor, I watched as Vincent pulled Camellia into his arms and gently kissed the tears on her face."Oh, don't cry, Cami. It breaks me to see you like this. As much as the painting's important, you're more important to me."Seeing the frown on his face, Camellia added, "But Ashley spent so many hours and effort on restorin

The next second, I was dragged into the blinding beam of the spotlight. Camellia ripped off my hood, let out a cheer, and slammed the switch.A blast of intense light pierced straight into my eyes. Sharp, searing pain exploded from deep within my skull, and blood-tinged tears streamed down my face.Only then did she finally switch the light off, satisfied, and shove the hood back over my head. "The light is super powerful! Now, when Ashley paints in the courtyard at night, she won't have any trouble seeing."Vincent smiled and playfully tapped her nose. "You're always so thoughtful. Ash's going to love it."For me, however, light had been ripped from my world. I collapsed to the ground in agony, vomiting uncontrollably, my body wrecked and broken.With a look of disgust, he gave me a kick and shielded Camellia's eyes with his hand. "Don't look. It's disgusting."I had no more tears to cry. My heart felt like it was being torn apart.This was the man who used to run across the en

The first week after divorce, I received more than 30 packages from Vincent. Each one was filled with things I used to love, as well as a handwritten note. "Ash, please come back."My nurse aide, Lexie Cullen, set down the fourth delivery of the day, her voice tinged with admiration. "Mr. Hawthorn sent another one. He's been waiting outside the hospital every single day.""Discard it."She looked at me in shock. "Mrs. Haw—I mean, Ms. Shepherd, these are all limited-edition art supplies…"I raised my bruised hands. "I can't even hold them now. What's the use of having them?"Lexie was momentarily speechless. "He seems really regretful, though. He's lost almost 20 pounds…""Regretful?" I scoffed, arguing, "He's regretful because he lost a good wife, not because of what he'd done."My phone rang, and it was a call from my agent, Claire Zimmer. "Ashley, your solo exhibition is coming up. Should we push it back?""No, we'll carry on as scheduled."Claire was shocked. "But your cond

"Ms. Shepherd, you have a package," the building management informed me through a call.I went downstairs to collect a delivery—a beautifully crafted wooden box without any sender indicated. Inside, there was a letter and a medical report."What's this?" I asked myself as I opened the report with a frown.I could vaguely make out the diagnosis on the paper, which was stark. Vincent had been diagnosed with severe depression and had voluntarily refused all medication.A trembling script followed beneath it. "Ash, I said I owe you, and I hope to repay you this way. Every day, I'd feel what you went through without any relief from medication. Love, Vincent."I trembled all over and immediately called his lawyer. Within moments, he confirmed that Vincent had indeed refused all antidepressants and was enduring unbearable psychological pain every day.I was so mad that my body shuddered. "This lunatic!"…That night, I received an email from Vincent's lawyer."Mr. Hawthorn has transf