Love at the Wrong Time, No Obsession, No Regrets

On the day of my first wedding anniversary, I was in a terrible car accident—one so severe that it left me mentally impaired, a helpless child in the eyes of the world, a laughingstock to everyone around me.

As a gesture of devotion, my husband—an esteemed businessman known for his wealth and charity—donated millions in my name, hoping to accumulate blessings for me, praying for my recovery. But when the longawaited day finally came, when I miraculously willed myself to wake up from my fogged mind, eager to share the joyous news with him, fate had other plans.

I arrived at his study, my heart brimming with anticipation, only to hear a hushed conversation between him and his secretary.

"Mr. Hedrick, your son with Miss Kimberly is already five years old. Even if Madam were to find out, she wouldn't be able to change the past. So why do you keep making her take those dementiainducing drugs?"

His voice was calm, composed, devoid of remorse. "This is the only way to keep her obedient. Leo Hedrick is still too young. He can't handle any disruptions in his life and I refuse to let either of them—mother or son—face any danger."

"But, sir—"

"If she remains demented for the rest of her life, then so be it. I'll take care of her forever, let her live free of worries, sheltered from the truth. She should be grateful."

A sharp pain shot through my chest and my vision blurred with unshed tears. A deep, bonechilling cold settled in my heart. I had once believed that my marriage would bring me happiness, a future filled with love and devotion. Instead, it had become my prison, the cruelest betrayal.

If this was love—if this was the future he had decided for me—I wanted none of it.

——

"Did she take today's dose?" Simon Hedrick asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

His secretary hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Madam thought it was candy and took it eagerly. But... the doctor warned me. If she continues taking the medicine at this rate, she may never recover. Mr. Hedrick, perhaps it's better if we—"

"No." His rejection was swift, final. "If she regains her senses, I won't be able to be with Leo every day. The boy is still young—he needs his father."

A flicker of warmth softened his cold demeanor. "Besides, Lisa has been clinging to me a lot lately. She keeps wanting me by her side. She endured the pain of childbirth for me, carried my child for nine months—how could I be so heartless as to abandon her now?"

The secretary opened her mouth as if to argue but hesitated, watching as he pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion evident. "Enough. I'm tired. You can go. I'll contact you if I need anything else."

I stood frozen at the doorway, my nails digging into my palms as my lips trembled. My burning eyes brimmed with tears. I had come here hoping for a moment of joy, thinking he would be elated to know that I had recovered. I had wanted him to be the first to hear the good news. But his indifferent words shattered my hope into a million irreparable shards.

Simon... why? If you no longer love me, then divorce me. Why reduce me to a mindless puppet, keeping me shackled at your side, allowing me to be mocked and pitied by everyone?

Instinctively, I reached for the door, my body shaking with anger, ready to confront him. But before I could step forward, the sudden chime of a phone filled the air.

From the other side of the study, Simon answered the call. The moment he recognized the caller, the cold, unreadable expression on his face melted into something tender, something warm. A rare smile graced his lips.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice gentle, affectionate. "Daddy is home. Do you and Mommy want to come over to visit?"

I couldn't hear the response on the other end, but his tone grew softer as he coaxed, "Alright, Daddy's time today is all yours. Whatever you want to do, just let Mommy decide. I'll follow her lead."

A sharp, piercing pain shot through my chest at the word Daddy. Memories came flooding back—ones I had once cherished, now tainted by cruel reality.

But now, the truth stood before me, an unforgiving storm tearing through my heart. The son he had envisioned already existed—just not with me.

"My baby girl will be raised in luxury—of course, she can't share a room with my son. I'll prepare two separate rooms, one for each of them."

Hearing this, I couldn't help but laugh. "And what if we have two sons instead?"

Simon's face flickered with mild displeasure before he sighed helplessly. "Then congratulations, Miss Stewart. You'll have three bodyguards protecting you for the rest of your life."

Back then, his world revolved around me. His eyes held nothing but love, his heart filled only with me. But now, in just a year, he had become a completely different person. A stranger. A monster.

Hot tears dripped onto the back of my cold hand, the contrast searing into my skin. My breath hitched, my chest tightening with pain.

The sweet whispers of the past tangled with the cruel words of the present, blurring the line between memory and reality. My vision swam and my knees buckled as I struggled to lean against the wall before I collapsed entirely.

At that moment, movement came from the study. Simon hung up the phone and stepped out.

When he saw me standing in the doorway, something flickered in his gaze—unease, guilt. "Julia, why are you here?"

Through my tearfilled eyes, his face blurred, his expression unreadable. I parted my lips, wanting to speak, but the words lodged in my throat like jagged glass. No sound came out.

Seeing my distress, Simon’s brows knitted with concern. He reached out, his grip firm yet gentle as he held me up. "Julia, did you have a nightmare? Don’t be afraid, I’m here. No one can hurt you."

Every time they drugged me, I would lose an entire day—slipping into darkness, waking up only to giggle mindlessly like a fool. And sometimes, in rare moments of clarity, I would wake up crying, seeking comfort in his arms. So now, as always, he assumed I was merely shaken by another bad dream.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, forcing my emotions down. I nodded slightly, playing along.

At my response, he sighed in relief, his tension easing. "Honestly, how can you still be so easily scared by nightmares? Leo is braver than you. You should learn from him."

Since I had been reduced to this mindless state, his son and his mistress had come and gone as they pleased.

I had been too far gone to understand—to object. Instead, I had welcomed them with open arms, smiling like a fool. The memories weighed on me like a stone, pressing down on my chest until I could hardly breathe.

I pursed my lips, refusing to speak. But Simon, his mind preoccupied with them, failed to notice the shift in my demeanor.

"Julia, Leo and his mother will be coming for dinner later. Go set out their slippers." His voice was light, coaxing—just as one would speak to a child.

A chill ran through my spine. He took advantage of my supposed stupidity, using me as their personal servant. If they were thirsty, I poured their drinks. If the floor was dirty, I swept and mopped. Even their arrival required my service—I had to personally greet them with slippers in hand. The sight of his familiar yet foreign face sent fresh waves of anger crashing through me.

I opened my mouth, ready to refuse—but before I could speak, a sharp, arrogant voice cut through the air.

"Where are my slippers?! Julia, hurry up and bring them to me, or I’ll have my father beat you to death!" Leo’s words rang through the house, laced with the entitlement of a child raised without consequence.

I stood frozen, my expression unreadable. Slowly, I turned my gaze toward Simon, waiting to see his reaction.

Instead of reprimanding the boy, he simply watched me, his eyes darkening with impatience. "Didn’t you hear him? Go bring his slippers."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. But I didn’t move. I simply stared at him. Leo, growing impatient, stormed into the house, his little footsteps echoing across the floor.

Seeing me standing in the doorway, his little face puffed up with anger, Leo grabbed a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet and hurled them at me.

He hissed loudly, "Julia, are you deaf? My dad feeds you and clothes you—is this how you treat his son? Do you believe me when I say I'll have my father throw you out?"

Simon frowned slightly, his gaze sharpening as he shot the boy a warning glare. "Leo, who taught you to speak like that?"

Before the boy could respond, Lisa Kimberly hurried in, pulling him close and shielding him protectively. She pouted at Simon, her voice laced with soft reproach. "Simon, don’t be so harsh. You’ll scare the child."

Then, as if remembering my presence, she turned her gaze to me. "I'm sorry, Julia. He's still young and doesn't understand. You're an adult—don't hold it against him." Her words carried no sincerity, only provocation and smugness.

She knew, just as I did, that Simon’s socalled anger was nothing more than an act. He wouldn’t truly reprimand them. And sure enough, barely a second after she finished speaking, Simon turned to me and said, "Julia, Lisa is right. Don’t get upset over a child. Take him to play—I have something to discuss with her."

Without waiting for my response, he turned and led Lisa upstairs. She clung to his arm, her voice playful as she murmured, "I made sure to wear your favorite black silk today..."

Simon's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. On the surface, he remained composed, but his steps quickened.

Before they even reached the top of the stairs, her soft, teasing whispers reached my ears. "Simon, not so rough… Let’s go back to the room. What if Julia sees…?"

Simon’s voice, lower and heavier than before, responded darkly, "Don’t mind her. She’s a fool. She doesn’t understand any of this."

I stood frozen, watching the disgraceful scene unfold, feeling as though I had fallen into an abyss of ice. Simon, you couldn’t even restrain yourself for the short walk up the stairs?

As their voices faded, a surge of determination shot through me. I lifted my foot to follow them—but before I could move, Leo yanked me back forcefully.

"Get down on the floor! I want to play horseback riding!" he demanded, his tone commanding and impatient.

I stood still, my stomach twisting in disgust as I looked at the little boy in front of me—his resemblance to Simon undeniable.

Seeing that I didn’t obey, Leo’s expression twisted in rage. He grabbed a cup from the coffee table and flung it at me. "Are you deaf? Get down!"

He raised his foot to kick me as well. Pain flared through my calf as his small but unrelenting foot struck me. I instinctively took a step back—but he lifted his leg again, aiming for another blow.

This time, I stumbled and fell, my head slamming against the edge of the sofa with a sharp crack.

The next second, a piercing wail filled the air. "Daddy! It hurts so much! Julia tried to kill me!"

I froze. My mind went blank. Leo had fallen to the ground, blood trickling from a small scrape on his forehead.

The moment I registered what had happened, I instinctively reached for a tissue to wipe away the blood—but before I could touch him, a violent force shoved me backward. I barely had time to react before a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. The slap was so forceful that my right ear rang, a dull buzzing sound filling my head, rendering me momentarily deaf.

When my vision cleared, I found myself staring up at Simon. His eyes burned with fury, his teeth clenched as he seethed, "Julia, how could you be so vicious? He’s just a child and you still refuse to let him go?!"

"I didn’t—"

Before I could finish, Lisa, now cradling Leo in her arms, lifted her tearfilled eyes, her face the perfect picture of sorrow. "Julia… If you have a problem with me, come at me instead. But Leo is just a child. How could you raise a hand against him?"

"If you don't like us coming here, we won't come in the future."

Simon looked at her with eyes full of pity and heartache. He gently patted her shoulder, offering a few words of comfort. Then, turning to me, his expression darkened, his voice laced with cold authority.

"Julia, apologize."

As his words fell, Leo stopped his wailing, his tearstreaked face lighting up with a twisted sense of triumph. He sniffled, his voice filled with childish arrogance.

"I want her to apologize on her knees! Our teacher said kneeling shows sincerity."

Simon didn't even hesitate. "Then let her kneel and apologize!"

His words sent a shockwave through me. Leo's demand didn’t faze me, but hearing Simon agree so easily made my heart lurch. My mind reeled back to the past—the man who once adored me beyond reason.

Back then, he couldn't bear to see me suffer even a little. Even if he only had two thousand dollars, he would give me nineteen thousand just so I could buy my favorite necklace. He used to say, "I can endure hardship, but you cannot. Whatever others have, you must have too."

I remembered the day I started my first internship. A client had tried to slip me a room key. Furious, Simon had stormed into the clubhouse alone, a wooden stick in his grip. He fought recklessly, emerging bruised and bloodied—but he never let me suffer even a scratch.

As he carried me out of that place, he had clung to me in fear, his voice shaking. "Thank God I got here in time. I can't lose you, Julia. How would I live without you?"

And now, the same man who once said he couldn’t live without me was treating me like nothing—siding with another woman and her child. When had love turned into such a cruel joke?

A bitter laugh escaped me as I clenched my fists. "I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?"

Simon’s expression darkened completely. His patience snapped. Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the dark storage room on the first floor.

"You’ll stay in here until you realize your mistake," he said coldly, pushing me inside.

I turned pale. My breath caught in my throat as I stumbled backward into the pitchblack space.

"Simon, you can't do this to me!" I pleaded, reaching for him, my fingers clutching desperately at his sleeve.

He knew. He knew I was terrified of dark, enclosed spaces. When I was five, I had been kidnapped and locked away in a damp, suffocating warehouse for two weeks. After I was rescued, the trauma never left me. I couldn’t be in confined, dark places without suffocating in fear.

And yet, knowing this—knowing how much I dreaded it—he still shoved me inside.

"Let go!" he snapped, prying my fingers off him with ease. His eyes held nothing but indifference as he shut the door, sealing me in darkness.

A scream tore from my throat. I pounded against the door, my nails scraping against the wood. "Simon! Open the door! Please! I can’t stay in here!"

Terror clawed at me, memories of my past ordeal flooding back. The cold dampness, the suffocating silence. My breath came in ragged gasps as I pressed against the door, my whole body trembling.

Then, like a cruel echo, another memory surfaced.

Half a month ago, when I was still under the haze of my druginduced dementia, Leo had fallen into the pond while playing alone. He had been rescued, but he had claimed that I was the one who pushed him. Without hesitation, Simon had believed him.

Just like now, he had locked me in the storage room, his voice void of emotion as he said, "You’ll stay in here until you admit what you’ve done."

I had screamed and begged, but he never came back. Instead, Leo and Lisa had appeared, standing on the other side of the door with victorious smiles on their faces.

Lisa’s voice was laced with smug amusement as she taunted, "Julia, you come from a wealthy family—so what? You still can’t win Simon’s heart. You’ll stay like this forever, watching me and my son take everything from you."

Leo’s childish, cruel voice followed. "Simon is my father. No one can take him from me! A woman like you doesn’t deserve him at all! Mom, wouldn’t it be great if she just died in here? Then we could finally take back our home."

Lisa stroked his hair lovingly, her eyes dark with contempt as she looked in my direction. With a scornful sneer, she muttered, "She should’ve died a long time ago. After all, she survived such a terrible accident—if only I had known, I would have made sure she never woke up."

A chill ran down my spine as the realization hit me. My car accident—it wasn’t an accident at all. Lisa had orchestrated it.

My breath came in shallow gasps as I fought to steady myself. Bracing against the cold, damp walls, I forced my trembling legs to move.

I remembered something—when I first moved in, I had hidden a spare phone in this very utility room. If no one had found it, it should still be here. Hands shaking, I groped through the darkness, my fingers brushing against rusted tools and discarded boxes. Then, finally—my heart clenched—I felt the cool, familiar shape of my old phone.

Tears blurred my vision as I clutched it tightly, my chest rising and falling erratically. This was my only chance.

With unsteady fingers, I dialed the number engraved in my heart. The ringing felt endless, each second stretching like eternity. Then, finally, a voice—deep, warm and achingly familiar.

“Dad,” I choked, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to come home.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before his voice trembled through the speaker, filled with barely contained emotions.

“Baby… you’re back? You’ve come to your senses?”

My father’s voice cracked, disbelief and relief colliding in his words. Before I could say more, he spoke again, firm and resolute. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

And just like that, the call ended. Minutes later, the front gates slammed open and there he was—my father. The moment his eyes landed on me, his expression darkened. He took in the sight of my bruised face, the red imprint of a hand on my cheek. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, fury and pain flashing in his eyes.

But instead of asking questions, he just exhaled a shaky breath and whispered, “Daddy’s here now. I’m taking you home.” He didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate. He simply took my hand and led me away.

As we got into the car, he drove in silence for a moment before speaking, his voice forced into a calm that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Julia… are you sure?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Leaving him… leaving all of this behind. Will you regret it?”

I wiped away my tears, remembering every moment of betrayal, every drop of pain.

“No,” I whispered. “I won’t regret it. Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, Simon sat beside his son in the hospital, watching the doctor examine him. Only when the results confirmed no serious injuries did he finally exhale in relief.

Lisa, however, was far from calm. Holding Leo in her arms, she dabbed at his forehead, her face a mask of grief and righteous anger.

“She’s so ruthless, Simon,” she sobbed, her voice trembling. “If we hadn’t been home, if something worse had happened—how could I ever live with myself?”

Leo, playing the role of the obedient son, sniffled dramatically. “Mom, don’t cry. I’m okay. As long as Auntie Julia is happy and doesn’t cause trouble for Dad, I’ll be fine.”

Seeing the boy’s pitiful expression and hearing Lisa’s tearful words, Simon’s expression darkened. The irritation in his heart toward Julia deepened.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the head maid.

“Keep an eye on Julia,” he ordered coldly. “She’s not to be given any food until I say so.”

There was a pause. Then, the hesitant voice of the maid crackled through the line.

“Sir… Madam’s father came earlier. He… he took her away.”

Simon’s frown deepened. “He what?”

“I don’t know, sir. Madam didn’t take anything with her. Should I go and bring her back?”