Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 443

Grace was silent for two seconds.

“Yes.”

Dorian’s voice instantly choked up.

“Thank you, Grace.”

Watching Dorian’s back as he was wheeled away, Grace let out a soft sigh.

“Feeling soft-hearted?” Damien squeezed her cheek.

“It’s not that,” Grace shook her head. “It’s about letting myself go. Hating someone is too exhausting, Damien. I have you, and I have our baby. I don’t want to live carrying that baggage anymore.”

“Smart girl,” Damien kissed her forehead. “From now on, your husband will take care of the trash.”

Dorian went to Europe.

He and Grace maintained their video calls once a month.

But that was all.

It was the greatest tolerance Grace could offer him.

The crack between them, though repaired, had left a scar that would never fade.

Just seeing that scar was a reminder of the pain.

So, keeping their distance was the best outcome for both of them.

***

Though Dorian was gone, the nightmare for the Hart family continued.

Lucian was dead.

He died on a stormy night.

He had been a notorious troublemaker in prison, constantly fighting and refusing to be reformed.

That night, he got into a conflict with a murderer in his cell and had two of his ribs broken.

He lay on the cold, hard cot, listening to the thunder outside.

He remembered how Grace used to be terrified of thunder, how she would hide under the covers and tremble.

He would deliberately crank up the stereo, blasting horror movie sound effects to scare her.

Seeing the color drain from her face brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

[In my life, I loved the wrong people and hated the wrong ones.]

When the news reached the Clarke family mansion, Grace was enjoying the sun.

Damien showed her the photo from the scene for a brief moment before quickly putting it away, not wanting to frighten her.

“He killed himself,” Damien said flatly. “Stabbed his carotid artery with a toothbrush. They couldn’t save him.”

Grace’s hand paused.

Lucian, the one who had whipped her with a belt and held her head underwater until she nearly suffocated, was dead just like that?

She thought she would be happy.

But she wasn’t.

She just felt an emptiness inside, as if a piece of rotten flesh had been carved out. It didn’t hurt anymore, but the hole was still there.

“For someone like him, living was its own punishment,” Grace said, dressing her daughter and patting her gently. “His hatred was too heavy. Death was his only escape.”

“He got off easy,” Damien snorted. “I was hoping he’d spend a few more years making license plates.”

Compared to Lucian’s decisive end, Lilian’s fate was truly a fate worse than death.