Chapter 8 You Ruined Our Past

Janice had barely finished her sentence before she broke down crying. Finally overcome with emotion, she crumpled to the floor. She buried her wailing in her hands, the tears flowing freely. She sobbed uncontrollably in front of Malcolm.

She was, at this moment, neither the Jian family's daughter, nor Mrs. Rong. She was simply the helpless, pitiful Janice.

Malcolm's face had darkened as Janice spoke. He now stared down at her coldly. Several emotions flashed across his face just then: anger, displeasure, misery, and a deep, unknowable pain.

But Malcolm was quick to compose himself. He ordered a servant to take Harlow away, leaving only himself, Janice, and Jasmine, who had been standing at the corner of the living room.

Malcolm bent down, leveling his face with Janice's.

He fixed her a steely look. "You ruined our past." Malcolm had hissed the words softly, but it hit Janice like a blow. She gasped and raised her head, her small face streaked with tears.

"I already told you! I didn't do it! I don't remember how I got in that room, or why there was that man beside me! Please believe me! I had wanted to go to the airport with Mr. and Mrs. Rong that night, but I..."

Her words were interrupted by a slamming sound.

Malcolm had smashed his fist on the ground. He glared at Janice, his eyes red and bloodshot. Janice closed her trembling mouth.

"How can you still say that? Don't you feel even an ounce of guilt? Those two people are dead because of you, Janice!"

Janice whimpered at those words. It felt like a punch to the gut. She felt so limp she couldn't even reach out to touch Malcolm's face.

Her small body was once again wracked with sobs. The wails broke out of her and filled the entire room.

When she felt she had no tears left to cry, Janice slowly raised her head. "You know, I've always wished I were the one who died. Then you wouldn't have to be in such pain," she choked out. Janice stood up slowly, looking dazed, her eyes unfocused. "Malc, I've known for a long time now that you only agreed to marry me because you wanted to take revenge," Janice said hollowly.

Tears started to fall from Jasmine's eyes when she heard this. Janice staggered to the door slowly.

"If only I could turn back time. If only I never met you. Then I wouldn't be living this hell. Then I wouldn't have ended up responsible for the death of two people at 21," Janice continued, her wavering voice breaking into a bitter laugh. She walked absentmindedly toward a beautiful, porcelain vase. It had been Mrs. Rong's favorite.

Janice's eyes clouded with tears as she gazed at the vase, recalling the gentle Mrs. Rong always taking care of her whenever she got sick, or the serious but kind Mr. Rong always reminding Malc to spend more time with her.

Janice raised a hand and touched the vase fondly. Her heart grew heavier and heavier as the memories flashed through her head.

"You must hate me so much. But I'll make it up to you," she said vaguely, as if speaking to the vase. As soon as the heartbroken declaration left her lips, Janice picked up the vase and smashed it to the ground. The delicate porcelain instantly broke into pieces. She quickly picked up a sharp fragment and wrapped her fingers tightly around it, causing her palm to bleed.

The blood quickly began dripping from Janice's hand. Malcolm gritted his teeth and clenched his fist so tightly blue veins appeared on his arms.

"Put that down, Janice." It was the first time in two years that Malcolm had taken such a gentle tone with her.

Tears started falling down Janice's face as she gave Malcolm a tight smile.

"I know you hate me. I know you wish I were dead." She tightened her grip on the broken shard. It cut deeper and deeper into her hand, causing more and more blood to ooze through her fingers. "But Malc, you must believe me when I say I would never, in a million years, hurt your parents. Mrs. Rong had said that she wanted to spend a holiday in Paris with Mr. Rong, so I had booked them a flight to France. I told them to go on ahead to the airport that day, intending to just meet them there to see them off. But for some reason, I passed out before I could. I don't know why I fainted. I remember taking a taxi to the airport, but..."

Janice screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to remember. She tightened her grip on the porcelain shard, the blood starting to pool on the floor. Malcolm was just about to rush up and grab the fragment away from Janice then but Janice suddenly opened her eyes. She raised her bloodied hand slowly and pointed the shard at her neck. Malcolm froze, afraid of making a wrong move.

"I had no idea it would happen, Malc," Janice insisted, staring at him imploringly with a tear-streaked face. "If I could somehow have known, I would have never let them go. Please. You have to believe me..." Janice felt a stab in her heart as the photo of the car accident Alivia showed her flashed in her mind. She choked back a sob.

Mr. and Mrs. Rong had loved her so much. But they had died because of her.

It really was her fault. She really was their killer.

Malcolm had been standing so tensely all this time he was starting to feel exhausted. Janice had explained this a thousand times, and every time, Malcolm had to remind himself to steel his heart against her and hold steadfast to the evidence. In the past two years, he had been as cold and as cruel to her as possible, his hatred for her never diminishing one bit.

Except for now. For once, Malcolm felt a crack in his resoluteness.

Janice was supposed to be the woman he loved and cherished. How did they end up like this?

Malcolm swallowed hard. He started walking toward her purposefully.

Janice looked at him calmly, awaiting his judgment. She had decided there was only one way to redeem herself. Only her death would appease Malcolm.

So in this way, she wasn't throwing her life away. She was restoring it.

Janice counted Malcolm's steps as he approached.

Five, four, three, two... One.

Janice closed her eyes and thrust the fragment into her neck.

Malcolm stood stunned as blood splattered over the side of Janice's face and even on his.

He had had no time to stop her.

It was too late.

It was strange, however. Janice didn't feel any pain. She only felt a warm wetness flowing down her neck. She opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Malcolm's frozen face.

In her peripheral view, however, a bloodied hand began to stir.

A familiar voice piped up behind her.

"Oh, Jannie. Why would you do this?" The voice was velvety and smooth, bringing comfort to anyone who heard it.

Janice whipped around in shock and came face to face with Roy's warm smile. It was his hand that she had ended up stabbing. Seeing what she had done, Janice let out a strangled, horrified cry.

Roy shushed her gently. "It's okay, Jannie. I'm okay. Let's go out for a walk. Okay?" This was something Roy would tell Janice every time she felt miserable. They would hang out for the rest of the day and by evening, Janice would have forgotten all her troubles.

Janice's face crumpled. She nodded, sobbing. She wanted nothing more than to be away from all this. Roy opened his arms, all ready to take her away.

But Malcolm was having none of it.

"Stop." His frosty voice cut through the room. Malcolm stepped forward and grabbed Janice's hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

Malcolm demanded imperiously, trying hard to mask his anxiety and concern.