Chapter 5 I Don't Need A Patient

Kyla held the necklace in her hand, feeling as though every drop of blood in her body had frozen solid. She returned to the living room, sat on the sofa, and quietly waited for Gerald to come back and deliver the final decision.

Gerald didn't return home until very late. As he entered, Kyla placed the jewelry box on the coffee table in front of him and pushed it towards him. She looked up at him quietly, her eyes devoid of anger, only a hollow emptiness.

Gerald was momentarily taken aback when he saw the jewelry box, but then realization dawned on him. There was no panic on his face as if caught in the act; instead, he appeared to have shed some facade, revealing a hint of weariness and determination.

"So, you saw it." It was a statement, not a question.

Kyla picked up her phone, typing slowly, letter by letter. "Why?"

"There is no why." Gerald leaned back on the sofa, rubbing his temples. "Kyla, let's stop deceiving ourselves."

He finally looked into her eyes, his gaze colder and more ruthless than she had ever seen.

"Aubrey is great. She's lively, cheerful, can discuss the latest academic advancements with me, and makes me laugh when I'm tired. She reminds me what it means to live. And you?" He suddenly leaned closer to Kyla, his voice suppressing a surge of emotion. "For the past five years, what have I come home to? A silent house with a silent wife. When I talk, you respond only with your phone. When I'm happy, you can't share it. When I'm sad, you can't console me. Kyla, do you know how suffocating this life is?"

Gerald was actually blaming her silence.

He was using the sacrifices she had made for him as a reason to betray her.

Kyla's heart was being torn apart by him at that moment. She was in such pain that she almost convulsed, her vision going black.

Summoning all her strength, Kyla steadied her trembling hands to type on the phone. "Who did I lose my voice for?"

Gerald read the words, a flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes but was quickly replaced by deeper irritation.

"You want to bring up that lawsuit again, don't you? How many times have I told you not to mention it again?" Gerald's tone contained no gratitude for Kyla's past efforts to save him but only endless disgust.

Even his eyes seemed to avoid hers, as if he was hiding something.

After a long silence, Gerald let out a long sigh. "Yes, I admit it. I'm grateful to you. That's why for the past five years, I've tried my best to make it up to you, to take care of you. Isn't that enough? I'm a normal man; I need a normal partner instead of a patient whose emotions I need to always gingerly care for."

A patient. He finally said those word.

The last trace of color drained from Kyla's face. So, all her deep affection and sacrifices were nothing but an exhausting ordeal in his eyes, and he was the weary, impatient caregiver.

She laughed silently, bitterly. Tears finally broke free, falling in large drops onto the cold phone screen.

Seeing her collapse, Gerald seemed to feel a flicker of hesitation. He averted his gaze, his voice softening, yet it cut like a dagger. "Kyla, let's get a divorce. It's better for both of us."

With that, he stood up, seemingly unwilling to look at her again, and turned to head upstairs.

Kyla's world crumbled at that moment. She curled up on the sofa in despair, feeling abandoned by the entire world.

Just then, the phone she had tossed aside vibrated with a few messages from an unknown and unlisted number.

Kyla stiffly swiped the screen open with a blank look. "Ms. Gibson, this is Blaine. I've thought about it for a long time and decided to tell you. It's about the case five years ago, when Seawise Group's predecessor accused Gerald Spencer of academic fraud.

I couldn't help wondering why a corporation as large as Seawise Group would go to such great lengths, even using overseas connections to falsely accuse a penniless, yet-to-graduate PhD student. It doesn't make any business sense.

But recently, I discovered the truth behind it all."