Breaking Free, Loving Again -The Flash Marriage with Mr. CEO novel Chapter 539

East Serenity Residence —

The air of ominous calmness hasn't dissipated yet.

Brenda has remained attached to the drip throughout the night, and even later, a nurse had dropped by to change it. She wasn't unconscious, but the pain —deep, unrelenting, and consuming —had made it nearly impossible for her to open her eyes.

So, weakly, she remained in bed, her breaths shallow, her frame frail beneath the blanket. Every now and then, her fingers would twitch slightly, trying to hold back the strength she felt losing every passing second, but failing desperately to do so.

She was fending for herself in that half-conscious state when a distant voice pierced the stillness.

"Why?"

Her brows furrowed faintly at that.

The voice felt familiar to her, but the heavy sedatives coursing through her body blurred her senses, making her unable to recognize him.

Margaret had been around the entire night —she had felt her presence. But right now, she could tell that she wasn't around. It was someone else. Someone who sat silently, fixing a steady, unreadable gaze on her.

Summoning every ounce of will she could muster, Brenda forced her eyes open. It took everything in her to fight the weight pulling her under.

At first, her vision was clouded. The edges blurred. But slowly, shapes and colours came into focus. She recognized the ceiling, the pale wallpaper, the antique mirror on the far side of the room … then her eye flickered to the silhouette seated beside her bed.

Aiden.

And at the sight of him, her pupils dilated a little in surprise. Mostly because out of everyone, she expected him to be there.

Her gaze darted around, searching for someone else, someone she feared might have accompanied him. But when she realized he had come alone, she let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Aiden," she feebly spoke, her draining state very evident in her voice. Her voice carried the weight of surprise she didn't bother masking. "What did I do to owe your presence this early in the morning?"

Her lips parted to offer him a warm smile, but it was met with nothing.

Aiden didn't return it.

He didn't even flinch at her frail state as if he wasn't surprised at all.

Something in his gaze bothered her. But she couldn't place what it was.

"You owe me so much that I can't even sit and list it all down, Mrs. Davies," Aiden said, his tone sharp and voice low and measured. "But that's not for what I am here for."

Brenda looked at him, puzzled, until she saw him retrieving something out.

Placing the box on the table beside her bedside, he pushed it to her. "I came to return this to you."

Her eyes at once recognized the familiar box of chocolates, and she didn't need to ask the reason anymore.

Closing her eyes, she let the blame settle on her shoulders.

And her silent acceptance only made him grit.

A dark chuckle rumbled from the bottom of his core. Although he had gotten the irrefutable evidence against her, he still thought something would prove it wrong.

But seeing her, accepting it without refuting it at all, it was clear that she knew what he had come to blame her for.

She knew her wrong, but carried no regret for it.

And that was enough to fume him.

So, it would be better if Arwen didn't know about it.

Aiden halted in his steps. He didn't turn to face her again, but looked back over his shoulder. "Don't worry, I can't let her worry for someone that's not worth it. Because what you are going through is not suffering, but a retribution that you deserved throughout."

His words were cruel, and they jabbed Brenda to the worst, but he didn't care.

Saying it, he left, leaving the old woman to fend for herself.

Brenda watched him leave and couldn't help but chuckle at herself —deep and self-deprecating.

Margaret entered the moment Aiden left, her brows furrowed in something that was a mix of displeasure and concern.

She had been standing outside all his while and had heard it all. And without a say, one could tell that she didn't like it at all, but what she didn't like more was —Brenda's silence.

"Madam," she called softly, her voice carrying empathy for the old woman who was always misunderstood.

Brenda glanced up at her and smiled. "Did you hear it, Margaret?" she asked. "It's not suffering, but retribution. Is it why it's hurting so much?"

Margaret shook her head. "Madam, it can't be retribution," she said, her tone almost pleading. "How could it be when you haven't done anything wrong?"

"How have I not done anything wrong, Margaret?" Brenda laughed as if she had long prepared for the list of wrongs she had committed in her entire life. "Did you not hear what Aiden just said. He wasn't wrong."

"He said it because he didn't know the truth, madam," Margaret insisted. "If you had told him, he would have understood. You allowed him to misunderstand you and your intentions. And I don't think you did that right. Not in a situation like this where you desperately deserve to be loved and cared for instead of getting subjected to their hatred."

Brenda let out a mirthless laugh.

"Truth?" she echoed, "Will that change a thing about this?"