novelraw Chapter 355: The Miscarriage That Year, A Narrow Escape from Death, Never Able to Have Children Again in This Lifetime
Chapter 355: The Miscarriage That Year, A Narrow Escape from Death, Never Able to Have Children Again in This Lifetime
Chapter 355: Chapter 355: The Miscarriage That Year, A Narrow Escape from Death, Never Able to Have Children Again in This Lifetime
Ignatius Leclair curled his lips into a cold smile, his handsome face lowering as he whispered inches away, "Five years ago, I let you go. You decided to come back and provoke me yourself, little Delphine."
For all these years, he had kept himself detached from feelings, even abandoning plans for marriage and children—because he was fully aware of his own possessiveness and twisted obsession with control. His unrelenting mental purity rendered him hopelessly demanding about relationships, intolerant of even a speck of imperfection.
"Grandfather has always wanted a great-grandchild. It’s time we put in some effort." Ignatius glanced at her flat abdomen with vague implication. Recently, there had been no precautions taken in their encounters. If luck permitted, perhaps a little Delphine, or a little Ignatius, might already be growing in there.
Since she was unwilling to open her heart, he didn’t mind forcibly shattering her hardened shell.
Delphine’s body trembled slightly. No one’s affection resembled his—calm, imperceptibly controlling, even his love felt icy and devoid of warmth.
She closed her eyes, recalling years ago amidst Jerusalem’s fiery chaos, when she stayed in a cramped local tavern. A passing Puritan, praying before his departure, said, "May God bless you and drive away the demon in your heart."
Day after day, she ate, slept, and worked like any normal person, yet could not change her inner state. It was a desolate wasteland, barren and lifeless, drenched in darkness.
"I’m sorry, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have returned to the South Seas." She murmured to herself, a trace of irrepressible pain showing in her delicate features. The real Delphine Carter had been destroyed at eighteen. To survive, she had painstakingly reconstructed her inner universe, carrying wounds that would never heal.
Even though he had finally fulfilled her wish, regretting his past actions and even trying to reunite with her, her heart felt no joy—only a profound sadness.
She had thought that returning to him, bridging the gap between them, might ease her unresolved anguish and save herself. But now she understood that the past five years, the child she lost, and everything that had transpired were irrevocable. She couldn’t even change the way she herself had transformed from a naive, passionate, and free-spirited girl into the cold, empty, self-imprisoned woman she was now.
From afar, fireworks blossomed into the sky amidst cheers and exclamations. Delphine looked up; the dazzling brilliance of the fireworks disappeared in an instant. She recalled the news on social media. This year, a renowned fireworks family from the United Kingdom had brought their art to the South Seas. The entire New Year in the South Seas would be cloaked in breathtaking displays.
Yet these fleeting splendors had nothing to do with her. She couldn’t blend into the vibrant life that others lived.
She was ill. She suffered from severe psychological disorders.
"You don’t need to worry about me growing close to anyone else. The doctor told me I have severe depression—robbed of any ability to feel happiness—and I cannot love another. As for children, after the miscarriage years ago, I barely survived. I’ll never be able to have children again in my lifetime." She raised her eyes, calmly speaking to the man she once loved with all her heart in her youth.
She was born an actress, skilled at pretending to be a normal, ordinary person.
Ignatius’s brows tightened sharply as his gaze deepened. His grip on her arm tightened, so forceful that it bordered on pain.
This was her revenge—the deepest revenge. After five years, Delphine Carter’s retaliation had arrived with unshaken calm, yet deadly precision.
A path of silence.
When they returned to the Leclair estate, it was dinner time. The old butler had been waiting eagerly outside, and upon seeing the eldest master walking in with Miss Delphine, one after the other, he greeted them with a pleasant smile.
The man’s expression was cold and hard like marble—unmoved. Miss Delphine, however, smiled serenely.
The old butler couldn’t shake a peculiar feeling of unease.
That night, Ignatius flew to the Imperial City. While everyone in the Leclair estate scrambled like mad, he relinquished all responsibilities and left without a backward glance.