Give Me Your Heart Edmund by Bonnie Judson

Chapter 4 Divorce Edmund

Dahlia staggered back home, the usual ten-minute walk extending to 20 minutes. The mansion’s heating wasn’t turned on, and the vast room was freezing cold.

Dahlia kicked off her high heels and stumbled into the bathroom as if she was drunk. She hastily started the hot water in the bathtub. But before the tub could fill up, Dahlia, who had been barely maintaining her composure, collapsed into it, her body limp and devoid of strength. The impact caused the hot water to splash, and her bright red dress unfurled in the water, resembling a pool of vibrant blood. Against this startling backdrop, Dahlia’s face appeared ghostly pale, a stark contrast to the vivid red around her.

Dahlia closed her eyes and sank into the water. The water gradually submerged her head, muffling all her senses. After a while, she couldn’t help but open her mouth. Hot water entered, causing a feeling of nausea to surge from her stomach.

Dahlia opened her bloodshot eyes and poked her head out of the water. She leaned over the edge of the bathtub, barely hanging on. Her stomach felt as though there was an invisible hand twisting it. She opened her mouth numbly, and her upper body twitched uncontrollably. Having not eaten the whole day, she spat out yellowish stomach acid, causing her throat to hurt, and tears streamed down her face.

Eventually, Dahlia, with eyes red and sore, turned her attention to the specks of blood mixed with mucus on the floor. A faint, unconvincing smile flickered across her lips, one that failed to light up her eyes. Those eyes, instead, were deep pools of quiet despair and desolation.

She took off her red dress and wiped the blood on the ground. She couldn’t let Edmund see it.

It was getting dark outside. Dahlia went back to the bedroom barefoot and fell into bed. She couldn’t fall asleep. Before knowing about her illness, she could still imagine a promising future. But now, she knew that it was futile, no matter how hard she tried and struggled.

It took her four years to lose everything, from being full of love and happiness to sinking into endless despair.

She seemed to have shed all her tears that day. Dahlia put her hand on her heart and mocked bitterly, ‘It’s my stomach that’s cancerous, so why is my heart hurting?’

The phone in her bag suddenly vibrated. Dahlia reflexively propped herself up, opened the bag, and took out her phone as quickly as possible. When she saw the caller ID on the screen, she seemed to lose all her strength.

‘It isn’t him… Dahlia, what exactly do you expect?’ she asked herself.

Dahlia stared at the phone blankly for two seconds, and then she answered it with her stiff fingers.

“Maximilian.” Dahlia’s voice was raspy.

Maximilian Quigley was her childhood friend. They weren’t related by blood, but they were like family to each other. When she was a child, she used to live in the Quigley residence for a long time. For Dahlia, Maximilian was like an elder brother.

On the phone, Maximilian asked worriedly, “Dahlia, why is your voice so raspy? Are you sick?”

“I have a cold, and I just woke up. That’s why I sound a bit raspy…” Dahlia answered.

Before Dahlia could finish her words, Maximilian interrupted her, “Dahlia, are you going to lie to me? Have you forgotten that I’m a doctor? I can distinguish between the voice of someone just waking up and the voice of someone crying after catching a cold.”

Dahlia choked, feeling as if there was a jagged stone stuck in her throat, which caused a painful, bloody discomfort. She found herself unable to either spit it out or swallow it. She was at a loss for words, unable to offer any explanation, and she eventually gave in to a bitter, ironic chuckle.

Maximilian asked, “Can you tell me why you’re crying, Dahlia?”

Dahlia held her phone and stared at the wooden floor. No one liked to show their fragility to others, so she shook her head and refused, “No.”

Maximilian was dumbfounded. He knew Dahlia’s character well. She was as stubborn as a mule. If she didn’t want to say something, even if others tried to pry it out from her, she simply wouldn’t spill.

He could only change the topic, asking, “What’s the result of the medical report you got from the hospital today?”

Dahlia pursed her cracked lips and said, “Everything’s fine.”

Maximilian said, “Forget it if you don’t want to tell me. I’ll go to the hospital and check it myself. I have the authority to check your medical report.”

Maximilian was a surgeon in that hospital, and it was easy for him to check her information.

‘I didn’t expect this…’ Dahlia mused.

“You can tell me yourself, or I’ll find out myself. It’s up to you.” Maximilian was still pushing her.

The line fell into such silence that Dahlia could hear the sound of Maximilian’s breathing. She finally relented and said, “Cancer. Terminal stomach cancer.”

Maximilian was struck mute.

He seemed to be holding back his emotions, as the chaotic sound of breathing kept reaching Dahlia’s ears through the phone.

“How is that possible? You’re so young…” Maximilian muttered, his voice gradually turning into a sob.

Dahlia could feel his sadness through the phone. He felt sorry for her, and she was satisfied that someone had cared about her before she died.

“Come to the hospital, and I’ll re-examine you,” Maximilian finally said.

Dahlia declined, saying, “The result will come out the same no matter how many times we do it. Maximilian, I know my own body. Maybe this is karma…”

“What nonsense are you talking about? Dahlia, listen to me. You’ll be fine if you stay in the hospital and receive treatment…” Maximilian’s voice was sad. He was a doctor who specialized in cancer, and he knew how serious the disease was and how painful it could be.

‘How did Dahlia’s body condition deteriorate to this extent?’ he thought.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Maximilian didn’t know how to persuade Dahlia. Sometimes, it wasn’t about whether she wanted to live or not, but whether she could. Her time had a limit. The hospital recommended either staying for treatment and gaining a few more years to live or giving up treatment and resigning herself to fate. In short, she was dying.

“Dahlia, divorce Edmund. Look what he’s done to you in the past four years,” Maximilian said.

‘Divorce…’ The word lingered in Dahlia’s mind. She had never thought of divorcing Edmund. He meant everything to her, like the bright light she always longed to hold on to. Yet, how could one catch hold of light?

Dahlia clenched her phone tightly. Her knuckles turned pale and she said with great strength, “I’ll think about it.”

Divorcing Edmund was like digging a piece of flesh out of her chest, and it was a hard choice to make.

Maximilian told her to go to the hospital again the next day, but Dahlia didn’t take it seriously despite agreeing with him.

In addition to being Edmund’s wife, she was also the CEO of McCoy Corporation and was always busy with different business endeavors.

Human endurance was similar to that of a camel, capable of bearing burdens under significant pressure. However, sometimes, it just took an extra straw to break a camel’s back.

After hanging up the phone, Dahlia casually tossed her phone on the bedside table. Her stomach hurt the entire time, and she was afraid that it would be difficult to fall asleep that night. She opened the drawer and took out two bottles of medicine from there, one for pain relief and another for sleep. Then she took two pills each and collapsed onto the bed.

Dahlia didn’t know if the medicine had worked, as her mind started to feel a bit muddled. She was haunted by frequent nightmares throughout the night. She felt as if a rock was weighing down on her chest, taking away her breath. She shook her head and mumbled incoherently. When she finally jolted up from sleep, she realized that it was Edmund who had been pressing on her.