My Parents Neglected Me Until I Died Novel by yueji

Anna passed away on the 22nd, a week after Damian’s wedding. The woman lying in the hospital bed had a serene expression in her sleep, masking the immense pain she had endured in life.

I was numb from crying. My best friend, a vibrant and living person, had vanished from this world just like that. Handling her affairs, I found a small consolation in knowing that she had me, her friend, to take care of things for her.

While sorting through Anna’s belongings at her home, I found a notebook in her study. It was her diary. After reading a few pages, I decided to keep it, intending to show it to someone someday.

The opportunity came sooner than expected. About six months later, a call from an unknown number interrupted my thoughts.

When I answered, a familiar voice came through–the voice of Damian.

“Stella, I remembered. Why there’s no one at home. Where’s Anna? I know she must be angry, but I can’t find her, and her phone isn’t answering. Can you tell me where she is?”

Hearing this, I felt a mix of frustration and irony. Why was he only remembering now, after she was gone?Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

“So, your memory’s back. What does it matter now that you’re back? And what about your wife?” My tone carried a hint of sarcasm.

“I divorced her after regaining my memory,‘ Damian said. “I know it’s irresponsible, but I’ve always loved Anna. That’s beyond doubt. Please, just tell her that, and I’ll do anything to make it right if she can forgive me.”

At that moment, I couldn’t help but smile, albeit bitterly. “Alright, come to my office later. I’ll take you to find her.”

through–the voice of Damian.

“Stella, I remembered. Why there’s no one at home. Where’s Anna? I know she must be angry, but I can’t find her, and her phone isn’t answering. Can you tell me where she is?”

Hearing this, I felt a mix of frustration and irony. Why was he only remembering now, after she was gone?

“So, your memory’s back. What does it matter now that you’re back? And what about your wife?” My tone carried a hint of sarcasm.

“I divorced her after regaining my memory,” Damian said. “I know it’s irresponsible, but I’ve always loved Anna. That’s beyond doubt. Please, just tell her that, and I’ll do anything to make it right if she can forgive me.”

At that moment, I couldn’t help but smile, albeit bitterly. “Alright, come to my office later. I’ll take you to find her.”

I ended the call, a small part of me wondering how he would react upon learning of Anna’s death.

After work, I saw him waiting outside my office. He had lost weight and looked weary, standing by the curb, smoking a cigarette.

Damian remained silent as I opened the car door and led him to the cemetery. The only sound was the crunch of gravel underfoot. I took out a bouquet of white roses–the flowers Anna had always loved.

Damian looked around, clearly puzzled. “What are we doing here? Is Anna here?”

I forced a smile and simply said, “Follow me.”

When he saw the white roses in my hands, his face fell. The reality of the situation seemed to hit him all at once. He grabbed my arm, his voice tinged with desperation. “Where is Anna?”

“She’s right here,” I said softly, nodding toward the cemetery. “You didn’t know? Anna passed away just a week after you married Calista. She had advanced stomach cancer. She spent years searching for you, neglecting her health. When she finally saw you, you were with someone else. Imagine how heartbroken she must have been.”

Damian’s face went pale. He seemed to relive the moment he had been so single–mindedly focused on finding Anna that he missed some words from Calista.

He recalled Calista’s unsettling calmness, “Go find her quickly; you might still have a chance to see her.”