A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 329

Yvan seemed oblivious to pain, his expression vacant as he lifted his right hand, staring at the blood gushing from the wound in his palm, the sight of red shocking to the eye.

He fixated on the wound for what felt like an eternity, gritting his teeth and, in a burst of determination, yanked out the deeply embedded piece of porcelain, causing blood to splatter everywhere! The numbness in his body was replaced by a sudden, overwhelming pain that seemed to emanate from the very depths of his heart, leaving his complexion ghostly pale, as though his soul had fled.

Blood continued to surge from the wound, unchecked. The physical pain was intense, but the pain in his heart was even more unbearable.

He wondered, did Matilda feel this kind of agony when she was driven to cut her own wrists in despair?

No, impossible. The pain from the wound on his hand couldn't possibly compare to the dozens of bloody scars on Matilda's wrist!

The pain she suffered then was now being inflicted upon Yvan in a cruel twist of fate. He remembered Matilda, alone and enduring inhumane treatment in prison, while he reveled in the pleasures of the world. The irony couldn't have been more biting.

At this moment, the truth hit him like a torturer's blade. With his eyes closed, all Yvan could see were memories of Matilda's face and her laughter.

Five years of marriage, five years of companionship, and he had repaid her with baseless accusations. Had he ever considered, even for a moment, the consequences if he had been wrong?

No, he hadn't spared a thought for Matilda.

Tears swelled in Yvan's eyes, his palm bloodied, his face pale from blood loss. His vision started to blur and warp, his entire world collapsing around him, rushing towards a bleak and colorless end...

...

When Yvan woke again, he found himself in a hospital, with Carl and Keaton sitting beside him. Seeing him awake, Keaton joked, "Why didn't you go a bit further and cut your wrist instead? What's the point of cutting your palm? Afraid of ruining your fortune lines?"