Chapter 25

When Yvan walked into the hospital the next day, Matilda’s medical team had changed shifts. The attending physician caught sight of him and called out, passing him some reports with a heavy sigh. “Mr. Boyd, your wife’s condition is quite serious…”

Yvan didn’t correct the doctor about his relationship with Matilda, allowing him to continue. “She’s suffering from severe depression and appears to have been through a significant trauma. Mr. Boyd, has anything… happened between you and your wife in the past?”

Clutching the paper, Yvan’s fingers ached from the thin report’s edge. His throat felt clogged with cotton, and after a long pause, he managed to mutter, “No… nothing.”

“I see.” said the doctor, removing his glasses to clean them. “Medication alone won’t cure this. We’ve checked her records; she’s been treated before but never followed a consistent regimen. She only takes medication when she feels an episode coming on. That’s not enough for a full recovery, and she seems unwilling to engage in therapy. Mr. Boyd, this may take some time. Do you know what your wife enjoys? What makes her happy?”

That last question stumped Yvan.

What did Matilda enjoy?

He realized he had no idea.

Finding it impossible to continue the conversation, Yvan mumbled an excuse and left, the doctor’s words echoing in his mind.

“Your wife must have endured some harsh experiences. Mr. Boyd. If there’s anything you’re keeping from us, please share. It will help us tailor a better treatment plan. Her condition is quite severe. You know, the scars on her wrists–they’re not from just one incident. They’re layers of new and old wounds. The most recent one from two weeks ago.”

Two weeks ago felt scarily recent. How many times had she harmed herself?

Matilda had been resorting to self–harm when the pressure became unbearable, alone at night

with a blade against her wrist.

facade of pride and aloofness, the Matilda he once knew, the lady of stature from five years back, was long gone. Her spirit was shattered, leaving behind only fragments of obsession.

to think further. He returned to Matilda’s

for

face this woman, his former wife–sentenced to prison by

Rachel and now she lived like this. Yvan felt

seeing her, he couldn’t find joy. He felt like the real executioner, the one who had

⠀ Chapter 25

this state.

the door, pale and hesitant, ultimately unable to enter.

“It’s me. Yvan.”

drawing covert glances from the nurses, who whispered speculations

to Matilda during her five years

had to confirm a suspicion, “I believe…someone may have… abused her using my name.”

let out a sigh and said. “Mr. Boyd, you don’t have to keep me cooped up. I won’t run off. At most. I’d go back to Mommy. If you really cared, just visiting

me.”

nearly drove into the flower

talk was this from the kid?

no regard for his

this really his

it weren’t for the DNA test confirming their

child.

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