When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

Silence fell over the room like a heavy winter blanket as Merritt spoke.

I tried to interject a few times, but Merritt's icy stare sent me retreating into silence.

Eventually, Merritt dismissed Clyde and me to our room. We always had a room at the Patterson Mansion, though it had seen little use. Clyde always had a penchant for company, rarely finding his way back to the Patterson Mansion.

Still styled to my liking, the room brought a lump to my throat. It was a stark reminder of how much had changed, yet everything remained the same. The joy we shared on our wedding day seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a heavy sorrow hanging in the air.

Initially, I believed the Patterson family welcomed me to be part of them with open arms. However, reality had a different plan, slapping me hard with its cold truth.

After a shower, I collapsed onto the bed, my phone buzzing with a reminder from the nurse about tomorrow's chemotherapy session.

Dreading the side effects, I messaged Jade, asking her to pick me up from Patterson Mansion the next day.

Jade asked, [Back at Patterson Mansion? Is it because of the rumors swirling online?]

She added, [Don't worry. I'll be there first thing in the morning. I won't let the Patterson family push you around!]

Accompanied by a patriotic meme, her messages coaxed a laugh out of me, warming my heart in the process. It seemed Jade had been my unwavering protector since my return.

Clyde emerged from the bathroom, coughing heavily. "Who's making you laugh so much?"

I turned away, presenting him with my back.

The only downside to this room? There was only one bed.

His irritation was palpable as he prodded my shoulder. "Why the short hair? It doesn't suit you."

"It's none of your business!" I snapped, shrugging off his touch and scooting further away.

He lingered behind me with his gaze almost tangible against my back.C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

I asked, "Are you going to sleep? I'm turning off the lights."

As I reached for the remote, he grabbed my hand. His grip loosened, perhaps in fear of hurting me, but he didn't let go. "Melanie, stop this nonsense. As long as you behave, you'll always be Mrs. Patterson."

He pursed his lips and let go of my hand.

"You're my wife. No one can take your place. I'll buy you clothes, and all the jewelry and bags will be yours too."

I paused, puzzled by his words. He seemed embarrassed, his face turning a shade of red.

It was a side of him reminiscent of better times, yet those days were long gone. He used to tell me not to be upset, admitting fault was his. He'd joke about aging from anger, fearing I'd see myself less beautiful.

With a deep breath, I pushed those memories aside, finding a semblance of calm. "Clyde, do you even remember the origin of the jewelry Kayla took?"

His confused look confirmed my suspicion.

"The necklace she wore was a gift from our wedding day. You said it matched the blue sky. The rings on her fingers? One was from our anniversary, the other a promise ring from our first week after dating. And the earrings were custom-made for my first birthday back home."

He opened his mouth to speak, visibly swamped with guilt. Finally, in a low voice, he muttered, "I'm sorry."

I waved it off. It's fine. You've

forgotten the significance of the necklace and rings, and I no longer want jewels that someone else has worn. They've lost their value to me. If you truly feel sorry, transfer the equivalent in cash to my bank

account."

I turned off the lights with a final note. "Make sure to mark it as a voluntary gift. I don't want any disputes over whose money it is."

His breathing grew heavy, a clear sign of distress, but I was too tired to care. The next day's chemotherapy loomed over me, demanding rest.

Yet, when Clyde lay beside me, sleep became a distant wish. His steady breathing behind me kept me awake, my heart aching with a mixture of pain and sorrow.

I slipped out of bed, only to find I'd left my pain medication behind. Fearing waking Clyde would lead to a fuss, I curled up on the sofa, enduring the night's pain until sleep mercifully took over.