I Was His Pillow, Now I Leave Him

Chapter 6

Lillian felt as though she had sunk deep into quicksand. No matter how hard she struggled to break free, it was all in vain.

She opened her heavy, dazed eyes, feeling a profound, echoing emptiness in her stomach.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips as tears spilled over, blooming into dark patches on her pillow.

It was just as well that it was gone. At least it saved her a trip to the hospital for an abortion.

Lillian suddenly recalled that when they first got married, Brandon had been deeply looking forward to having a child with her.

He used to lean in close to her ear and whisper, "Honey, shall we have a little princess? She'll look exactly like you. It'll be like getting to raise you all over again. We're gonna dress her up in the most beautiful dresses and give her the prettiest little crowns."

Back then, she laughed at his childishness, telling him that he sounded like a kid playing house.

But now, even if he had known she was pregnant, her fate probably wouldn't have changed.

Lillian pulled out the urn she had kept close to her and carefully placed it on the nightstand, letting her younger sister accompany her to sleep, just like they used to when they were children.

As daylight broke, waves of stinging pain radiated from her back, and Lillian slowly opened her eyes.

The thick scent of medicine filled the room. Brandon was holding a tube of ointment, carefully applying it to her wounds.

Lillian blinked again, realizing she had been moved to a hospital.

"What are you doing here?" Lillian brushed his hand away, and asked with utter indifference.

Brandon looked at her haggard, lifeless complexion, his brows knitting together almost imperceptibly.

Why did he feel as though Lillian was becoming more and more deathly pale?

Recalling Emilia's tearful grievances, he let out a sigh and pushed those thoughts aside. In any case, what Lillian was enduring now was nothing more than karma, an eye for an eye.

Brandon set the ointment down, his tone softening for once. "Look, I'm not gonna hold what happened to Emilia against you this time. Luckily, the baby is fine. I know you're taking Megan's death really hard right now, but Emilia hasn't done anything to you. I need you to try and get along with her."

"I don't ever want a repeat of what went down yesterday." He reached out to caress Lillian's cheek. She didn't dodge this time, instead letting him do as he pleased with a blank, wooden face. "I love you a lot. Don't make things hard for me, okay?"

Seeing that she had absolutely no reaction, he didn't get angry either, merely continuing talking on his own, "I can give you literally anything you want, Lillian. Just don't ever bring up divorce or Emilia again."

With that, he turned and walked out.

A flicker of emotion finally crossed Lillian's eyes. He couldn't give her what she truly wanted. This promise of his was as useless as talking to the deaf.

After he left, Emilia swaggered into the room, carrying a bowl of soup.

"Lillian, honestly, why do you even bother?" She sat down gracefully, looking down at her with a superior air. "You're just a nobody with zero backing, yet you still throw these crazy tantrums. Mark my words, I'm replacing you soon."

She spoke with absolute certainty, but hearing this only made Lillian want to laugh.

"A nobody? Aren't you one too?" Her voice was very soft, carrying an eerie, unsettling calmness. "He and I have over ten years of history, and he dropped his feelings the second he felt like it. Do you seriously think you're gonna end up any better?"

Emilia, however, remained utterly confident. Ignoring her words, she forcefully shoved the medicine into Lillian's hands instead.

"Your body took a real beating this time. Even though you went way too far, I still feel a little bad about it," she said, her eyes gleaming with pure malice. "This is a special home remedy I personally tracked down. It's amazing for helping you recover."

Lillian felt a complete lack of emotion. She didn't know what kind of trick Emilia was pulling this time, but she knew it was definitely malicious.

She lowered her gaze to look at the dark, murky soup, only to catch a glimpse of some white powder floating on the surface.

A sudden, ominous foreboding flared up inside Lillian, and she jerked her head up. "What is this?"

"This? It's a medicinal booster that took me forever to find." Emilia's smile grew wider as she pulled a small box out of her bag. "This remedy needs a pinch of ashes to actually work. I figured using your own sister's ashes would make it way more effective..."

A booster... ashes... her sister... Hearing those words made Lillian's vision go black in waves.

But Emilia wasn't finished yet. "You probably didn't know, did you? Brandon personally gave me the ashes. He even told me I was incredibly sweet for being so thoughtful!"

The moment the words left her mouth, her expression twisted. She lunged forward, snatched the bowl of medicine, and clamped her hand around Lillian's chin to force the liquid down her throat.

Lillian struggled with all her might. Just as the liquid was about to slide down her throat, she shoved Emilia away violently. Clutching her chest, she coughed uncontrollably, tears mingling with the dark medicine smeared across her face in despair.

How could she be so utterly useless? She couldn't protect her sister when she was alive, and now she couldn't even protect her ashes.

With bloodshot eyes and her face gaunt like a corpse, Lillian stepped forward inch by inch. She grabbed Emilia by the collar and slammed her against the floor repeatedly.

When Brandon pushed the door open, this was the exact scene he saw—Lillian's face contorted in pure, feral rage.

"Brandon, save me! I just brought her some medicine and she said she wants to kill me..." Emilia cried out in a panic, begging for help.

Brandon strode forward, yanked Lillian away violently, and delivered a harsh slap to her face without a single question. "Did you learn absolutely nothing from last time? What kind of crazy stunt are you pulling now?"

"Crazy? It's easy for you to call me crazy when you're not the one who's bleeding!" Lillian laughed desolately. "The 'booster' in this medicine... you're the one who gave it to Emilia, right?"

"Yeah, I did. What, is it a crime for us to look out for you?" Brandon said coldly, holding a sobbing Emilia tightly in his arms.

"Ha! Hahaha! Well, should I get down on my knees and thank you both?!" Lillian erupted into sudden laughter, the bitter aftertaste of the medicine still lingering in her mouth.

That was the taste of her sister.

"You've really lost your mind!" Brandon's patience finally wore thin. Deciding that she simply needed time alone to calm down, he quickly turned and left, taking Emilia with him.

Megan's urn slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. Lillian lunged forward frantically to catch it in her arms.

Staring at Brandon's unyielding, retreating back, she bolted out of the room, chasing after them.

Flashes of her sister's bright smile flickered through her mind, only to instantly morph back into stark white ash.

Brandon stepped into the elevator while carrying Emilia. For a moment, Lillian could still hear the faint murmur of their voices.

Lillian ran toward the rooftop as fast as her legs could carry her, that cold, detached voice echoing relentlessly in her head: "The only way out of a Dawson marriage is in a coffin."

The elevator began its descent, and Brandon looked out through the glass panoramic window, scanning the hospital grounds.

Lillian reached the edge of the rooftop. Her sister's crying echoed in her ears once more, and in her dazed state, she thought she heard someone calling her name.

But she couldn't stop. She wanted to leave the Dawsons. She wanted to find freedom alongside her sister.

Cradling her sister's urn close to her chest, her long hair whipped about by the wind, a brilliant spark of life returned to her eyes in the very last second of her life.

As the elevator smoothly glided downward, Brandon lifted his gaze—only to see Lillian's body fall past his gaze like a bird, plummeting before blooming into a sudden flower of crimson below.

In the third year of her marriage, at last, Lillian was free.