Chapter 210
Nina had thought that as long as Mr. Bennett was alive, she could let everything else go. She’d have been willing to live without seeing him again, without any connection between them–just so long as he was still in this world..
But in that moment, watching him kiss Cynthia, she realized she couldn’t do it. No one could love him more than she did. So why hadn’t he chosen her!
A storm of anger, sorrow, and bitterness coiled in her heart like a serpent, hissing and twisting, refusing to let her be
When Whitney learned Jonathan was still alive, her feelings were conflicted. She’d spent years wishing for his death, hoping he’d vanish from the world without a trace, as if he’d never existed.
Yet, when she heard that his helicopter had gone down, that there was no chance of survival, she’d felt oddly hollow, as though something had been ripped from her.
For so long, she’d poured her pain and hatred onto Jonathan, blaming him as the source of her suffering. Living with that bitterness had become second nature.
But one day, with that supposed “source” gone, it felt as if a piece of her had been carved out, leaving an emptiness she didn’t know how to fill.
Whitney had been attending the opera house for days, watching one tragedy after another. She moved from the heart- wrenching La Traviata to Otello, finally settling on Macbeth again and again.
The actors‘ performances were captivating. Their voices were filled with raw emotion and haunting sadness as Hamlet’s famous soliloquies rang out, weaving the story’s sense of doom and despair.
“Whether “tis nobler in the mind to suffer; the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles….
As Hamlet pondered his dark fate on stage, the butler entered quietly, leaned in, and murmured to Whitney, “Ms, Bennett, they’ve Mr. Jonathan Bennett, he is alive.”
Whitney’s face remained expressionless. She raised a hand, dismissing the butler, who promptly stepped back and left. Her gaze returned to the stage, where Hamlet’s line filled the hall.
“O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams”
The actor portraying Hamlet–alone figure on stage, drenched in sorrow–recalled young Jonathan as a child. At four or five, he’d adored Whitney, always trailing behind her whenever she visited the Bennett manor.
Whitney had despised Jonathan’s presence, always wearing a scowl and shooing him away. Yet, whenever she berated him, he’d simply smile back at her.
“Whitney, you haven’t been back in a while. I’ve really missed you.
“Whitney, this cake is delicious. I saved it just for you.”
“Whitney, are you free tomorrow? Can you take me to the amusement park”
The one time Whitney agreed to take Jonathan
an amusement park, she’d abandoned him there from morning until
nightfall. The family had been frantic, searching everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found.
She’d received a beating from Mr. Bennett and been punished for kneeling in the cemetery. Two days later, Jonathan had
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Chapter 210
found his way home orrhis qwn. His clothes were tattered, his body bruised, one shoe missing, and his feet bloody, like at little lost beggar.
No one knew how he’d made it back or what he’d gone through in those two days. Yet, when he saw her kneeling in punishment, he’d covered for her, saying, “It wasn’t her fault–I got lost on my own.”
Over the years, she’d done countless cruel things to him, yet he had never once complained to Mr. or Mrs. Bennett.
When Jonathan was ten, she pushed him into the pool herself. Jonathan had always feared the water and had never learned
to swim
As Jonathan fell in, he looked up at Whitney, his eyes filled with disbelief. He struggled, calling out desperately. “Whitney, help me! Help!”
Whitney stood by the pool’s edge, unmoved, fingers clenched and body trembling
She watched his expression shift from shock to pain, then to despair. When he finally sank, he stopped struggling altogether. simply staring at her, with a look of hatred born from utter hopelessness,
Over the years, that look still appeared in her dreams from time to time.
When Jonathan lay still at the bottom of the pool, her resolve broke, if only for a moment. Whitney screamed, calling for help, and the butler came rushing to pull Jonathan out.
By then, Jonathan had already been under for several minutes. Everyone scrambled to revive him while Whitney stood off to the side, watching. What had she been thinking at that moment?
Whitney remembered feeling a sharp, unbearable pain in her chest like something vital had been torn out
She had always believed that Jonathan trapped her in a cycle of cruelty and suffering, a constant reminder of the torment she’d endured and the tragic loss of her beloved brother.
Yet, in that instant, Whitney realized she didn’t want Jonathan to die. The pain had become part of her existence, woven into her very soul. If Jonathan died, it felt as though her spirit would shatter into countless pieces.
Jonathan was brought back to life. When Mr. Bennett demanded to know what had happened, Jonathan didn’t expose He simply said he couldn’t remember. Everyone assumed his memory loss was due to the suffocation.
her.
But Whitney knew better. From the moment Jonathan opened his eyes, how he looked at her had changed. His gaze held a fierce resentment, a cold indifference, as though all warmth had drained from his heart.
From that point on, Jonathan resisted her. He stopped trying to please Whitney and stopped smiling at her. What remained between them was silent defiance, an unspoken war,
Whitney closed her eyes, lost in the memories. Onstage, the performance of Hamlet had ended, the actors taking their final bows. As she rose from her seat, she realized her face was wet with tears.
Meanwhile, the live stream continued. Everyone knew that Jonathan and Cynthia were alive, but no one could pinpoint their exact location.
Still thrilled by the success of his proposal, Jonathan had no one else to share his overflowing joy with–so he grabbed a crab, holding it captive as he poured out his excitement.
The crab tried to escape, but Jonathan caught it each time and placed it back in his palm.
“Did you hear that? I have a wife now. Her name’s Cynthia!” he said, grinning.
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Then, with a serious expression, Jonathan added, “So, do you have a wife? What’s her name?”
Sitting beside him. Cynthia shot him a look of pure exasperation “You’re nuts.”
