Devoted Love, Mr. Hayes’ Darling Wife

Outside the ICU room.

Beltran sighed, “Seeing the situation, Kemena can’t leave the hospital for a while, and the ICU can’t go in to attend to her, so we have to put someone here to wait for news.”

Camila said, “Master, you are not well, so why don’t I stay here with Kemena while you go home to rest and relax. But I have to go back to get toiletries.”

Beltran nodded and said, “Then go home and get your toiletries and we’ll switch shifts when you arrive.”

Outside it was pouring rain and the rumble of March spring thunder was violent.

With her umbrella in hand, Camila made her way to the hospital entrance and had just stepped outside to stop the car when a thunderstorm hit the sky in an instant.

“Boom – pop-!”

A woman’s piercing scream rang out from the hospital doors.

Bystanders turned their heads to look around and saw a middle-aged woman struck by lightning, her body burned and in a horrible state of death.

“Somebody’s been struck by lightning!”

“My God, is this the legendary lightning bolt from heaven?”

“This man is cursed or has done so much evil that God can no longer see him!”

…

Beltran has not been in the best of health over the years.

As I grew older, I developed rheumatic problems in my legs and walked quickly with a limp.

As Camila was rushed in a wheelchair next to the ambulance bed, Beltran limped up behind her.

“What is… this, what’s going on?”

The doctor asked, “Are you related to the deceased? The deceased was struck by lightning and was not breathing when we came to resuscitate him.”

Beltran’s unsteady legs, shaken, took two or three steps backwards, shivering with cold.

Death by lightning.

As did Micaela’s curse on her.

Beltran was dizzy for a moment.

Could it be … that Yan Qing couldn’t die and couldn’t help but take it out on Camila and The Matamoros family even after seeing Micaela suffer so much?

…Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

At the end of the dimly lit hospital corridor, Nico sits quietly on a bench, not saying a word.

On the other side of the window, the sound of crackling, heavy rain pounding on the window.

A long, deep cold night.

Nico slowly looks up as the morning sun rises in the sky outside his window.

He thought it was going to get dark and it would never get light again, but it was a night of heavy rain and yet the sun appeared without delay.

His body was stiff and his legs were also numb from holding a sitting position for a long time.

But Nico didn’t mind. He got up with some difficulty and stood outside the room, his hand on the doorknob, pausing for a long time before finally pushing the door.

Micaela woke up and lay back on the hospital bed, reluctantly looking out the window at the warm morning sun in the slightly chilly weather.

Nico walked over to the hospital bed and questioned emotionlessly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

Micaela, her face pale and cold, turned her head to look at him mockingly, her voice husky and sarcastic, “You won’t let me give Kemena a blood transfusion when I say I’m pregnant?”

“Micaela, you did that on purpose.” Nico affirmed.

On purpose? Yes, he did it on purpose.

Deliberately to make him misunderstand, deliberately to make him think she was doing it on purpose.

Micaela tugged at the corners of her lips and Savanna closed her eyes.

You see, the trust between them has never been like a thin piece of paper that can be lightly pricked to make a big hole.

Micaela spoke softly, “Yes, I did it on purpose, I hate The Matamoros family, I hate Beltran, I hate Kemena, I hate you even more, I just wanted to see what it would feel like for you, Nico, to have your own son killed with your own hands, I just . . want to do whatever it takes to get back at you, without using your son.”

That one, like he hated to the bone, gnashing his teeth and hating to kill everything about Nico.

Including, his children.

“He’s your son too!”

Nico rolled over in rage and grabbed at Micaela’s neck, strangling her hard, “Micaela, how can you let go of me, you hate me and why are you taking it out on our son!”

Micaela raised her head, fearless and unafraid, her gaze straightened as she stared at him and let out a soft laugh, “It hurts, doesn’t it, but the pain you taste now is not a tenth of what I feel, and you had better strangle me or my vengeance will not cease.”

That poor distrustful mind, sick to the core. Killing feelings with feelings was the only way Micaela could think of, the only way to get even.

“Micaela!”

Anger, hatred … they’re intertwined.

Nico’s eyes were scarlet and the strength in his hands tightened, the slender neck in his hands that would snap with a single merciless movement.

But looking at his gaunt, bloodless face, Nico’s heart ached.

The heart, it really hurt.

He slowly loosened his five fingers, stretched the corners of his lips into a smirk and murmured, “You win, Micaela, you win…”.

She lost completely and utterly.

Nico turned his back on her and left the room.

Micaela reminded him in a cold voice from behind his back, “See you next Monday at ten o’clock in the morning in front of the Civil Affairs Office.”

Nico’s footsteps, without pause or response, went straight out the door.

Micaela was sitting on the hospital bed, eyes downcast, looking at the wedding ring on her ring finger, smiling softly and shedding tears.

His destiny, as if it were the beginning, stopped in the middle of summer when she met him at the Matamoros family compound when she was eighteen years old.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have provoked him in the first place.

At eighteen, she met him and made a deal with him that seemed like a good deal and she even made a lot of money.

Since then, she has gone astray and become confused about life.

She confidently thought that she, Micaela, could easily get Nico’s heart whenever she wanted.

Seven years, on the run, always together and apart, she thought that was the norm in life and that he would always be there if she turned around.

Knowing, knowing, loving… her thinking that the two deep love, marriage would be the successful end of the relationship.

She rests her eyes for him, guffawing vividly on stage, and off stage, she is the one in his eyes that pours tenderly.

He thought they would be together for the rest of their lives.

But, at twenty-five, she marries Nico, becomes pregnant and miscarries for this man, and her youth is turned upside down.

Entangled for seven years, she spent her best years, all of them, with Nico.

They are both sick, irretrievably sick.

She can no longer go on.

The Holy City was right when it said Nico was a man with a heart of gold, a man who loved you with a heart of gold, and a man who could destroy the world he gave you in an instant if he didn’t love you.

He is the prodigal son and he will not look back.

If she had a second chance, Micaela would not want to meet him, even if her life was a little less colorful, but this love, in the end, was too painful.