He Showed Her Marks, I Asked for Divorce

Chapter 2

After being discharged from the hospital, the first place I went to was the rehabilitation center on the outskirts of the city.

As I pushed open the white door, the sharp scent of disinfectant rushed toward me. My mother, Oriana, sat by the window, staring blankly outside.

She wore a neatly pressed patient gown, and her hair was combed perfectly, all arranged by Magnus.

I called softly, "Mom."

She turned her head slowly, her gaze lingering on my face for a long time before a faint smile appeared. "Elara is here."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Today, she recognized me.

I walked over and crouched in front of her, burying my head in her lap the same way I did when I was little.

Her dry hand stroked my hair, once, then again. Suddenly, she asked, "Have you been unhappy lately?"

My nose stung.

She had been ill for years now, her memories scattered like sand blown away by the wind, yet she always remained unusually sensitive to my emotions.

I lied. "No, Mom. I'm fine."

She cupped my face. In her cloudy eyes, there was unexpectedly a trace of clarity. "There are tears in your eyes."

I couldn't hold back anymore. Tears rolled down my cheeks. "Mom... I'm getting divorced."

She froze for a long time, so long that I thought she had forgotten what we were talking about again.

Then she gently patted my back like she was soothing a baby. "Good. Divorce him. That's good. Our Elara shouldn't live this kind of life."

I looked up at her in shock. "Mom... you remember?"

She smiled, her expression carrying a childlike sense of pride. "I remember. That Magnus isn't a good man. Every time he came here, he smelled like a different perfume." She wrinkled her nose as though she had smelled something filthy. "And he thought I was stupid enough not to notice."

My heart sank to the bottom.

So even my mentally unstable mother could see the truth clearly, while I had blinded myself for seven years.

Choking back sobs, I said, "Mom, I'll take you away. We'll go abroad. I found a job in Berlin, at a huge design company."

She shook her head, and her eyes became vacant again. "I'm not going. It's nice here. There are flowers, trees, and your father's photo."

I followed her gaze toward the bedside table. An old photograph sat there, showing my father in his younger days.

He had been dead for twenty years, yet my mother had never forgotten him.

"Mom, Dad already—"

She raised a finger to her lips mysteriously. "Shh. Your father visited me last night. He said Our Elara deserves to be free now."

My tears burst out uncontrollably. So she knew everything after all. She was simply protecting the tiny shred of dignity I had left in her own way.

When I returned home that evening, I began packing my luggage. As expected, Magnus hadn't come back. Perhaps he was still in that hotel room, continuing his unfinished night of passion with that woman.

I opened the closet. It was filled with custom-made gowns he had people deliver to me over the years.

I didn't take a single one. I only packed the old clothes I had bought for myself seven years ago.

My phone vibrated. It was a billing statement from the rehabilitation center. The six-figure monthly treatment fees had all been paid by Magnus.

I stared at the numbers for a long time before eventually transferring every cent of my savings into the account.

It was the money I had saved from my job before marriage, along with earnings from several freelance projects I had taken over the years. It wasn't much, but it was enough to cover my mother's expenses for half a year.

After finishing everything, I dialed a number. "Director, this is Elara Frost. My mother, Oriana Frost 's treatment expenses will now be paid by me personally."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mrs. Rowe, are you certain? Given Ms. Frost's condition, ordinary medical insurance can hardly cover...."

"I'm certain," I interrupted. "And one more thing. I want to transfer her to another facility."