Semua Bab Today, I Stop Dying for You: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Morgan cast me a cold, indifferent look before kicking my homemade cake right off the table. It was an incredibly simple, rudimentary cake—the base had been baked in an oven, the whipped cream was smeared on, and the birthday wishes were written in a crooked, messy scrawl. Then, he looked at Ingrid tenderly. "So long as it's from you, there'll always be room." The private room instantly erupted into lively chatter, and someone jeered, "No wonder Morgan prefers Ingi. I can't believe she actually gifted a cake that looks that cheap. At this point, she's just addicted to playing the victim.""Exactly. She doesn't even come close to Ingi's taste and thoughtfulness."Years ago, Morgan and I had been so poor that we lived in a semi-basement. On his birthday, I had sold my blood for 50 dollars, bought some basic ingredients from the grocery store, and spent hours until I cobbled together an ugly cake. Morgan had burst into tears after having a few bites of it. He had held me tightly a

For a moment, my heart melted, and I agreed, naively believing we could go back to the way things used to be. However, reality slapped me hard in the face. Not long after, Ingrid got a job as a waitress at a banquet. A few scions had noticed how beautiful she was and decided to give her a hard time. They poured wine onto the floor, demanding she get down on her knees and lick their shoes while trying to stuff cash down her blouse. Morgan lost control of his emotions. For the very first time, he let go of my hand and charged forward, beating those two scions to a bloody pulp. I stood rooted to the spot as Ingrid sobbed in his arms. Morgan's eyes were bloodshot as he held Ingrid tightly. His heart ached for her. "I, Morgan Franklin, swear to God that no one in all of Northhelm will ever dare lay their hands on you again."Standing behind them, I watched my husband lose his composure for another woman. I became the laughingstock of the elite circle of Northhelm. Overnight, I'd

I returned home to Southguard, a city I had been away from for a decade. The downdraft from the helicopter's spinning rotors was immense, flattening the grass across the lawn. As I stepped down the boarding stairs, I looked up and immediately spotted Mom. She was standing a short distance away in a muted dress. Her posture was as upright and elegant as ever, though streaks of silver now touched her temples. She was rooted to the spot and gazing at me. Tears welled up in her eyes almost instantaneously, but she kept them at bay. Dad strode forward and, without a word, took the lightweight suitcase from my hand. It held almost nothing from Franklin Manor, only my old belongings. His lips quivered, yet all that came out was, "Welcome home."The layout of the house had changed a bit, yet it also felt as if nothing had changed at all. The long table in the dining room was filled with food. At a glance, there were honey-glazed ribs, baked trout with lemon and herbs, and crab casserole

On the day of our wedding, I wore a simple satin wedding gown and walked down the aisle arm in arm with Dad. We slowly closed the distance between Charles and us. Looking incredibly sharp in his black suit, he turned to look at me with brilliant, shining eyes. Mom smiled through her tears in the pews, while Charles' parents beamed. The officiant began to read the vows. Holding my hand, Charles was about to utter the words, "I do," when the heavy doors of the church were abruptly flung open.The blinding sunlight silhouetted a staggering figure. It was Morgan.He had lost a tremendous amount of weight. The suit that once fit him perfectly now hung loosely on his frame. His hair was disheveled, dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and his bloodshot eyes were fixed squarely on me. The venue staff and security guards hired by my family panicked and chased after him. "Milana!" he called out hoarsely before charging in.A commotion broke out among the guests. Dad's expression hardened, wh

Eventually, I came clean to Milana, and Ingrid also helped explain the situation. She was a victim too. Noticing her pallid complexion as she knelt on the cold marble tiles, my chest tightened out of nowhere. Milana had finally forgiven me, and I had been happy. Yet, on the day I fired Ingrid, I felt reluctant to let her go. Realizing that something was off about me, I still rejected Ingrid when she begged me to let her stay. "Mr. Franklin, please, I beg you, don't fire me! I'll do anything, even if it's just running errands or cleaning up. My parents are gravely ill, and my younger brother is counting on me for his tuition. I genuinely cannot afford to lose this job!"However, when I witnessed Ingrid being harassed at a banquet, looking so disheveled and terrified, my protective instincts completely took over. At the end of the day, she had already been my woman; she shouldn't have to live such a degrading, subservient life anymore. The moment I threw that punch, I regretted