The Rewritten Love: A Second Beginning

Chapter 9

Amidst the chaos of his room, a young man, Ethan, sat in his wheelchair. Unattended locks of hair cloaked his eyes, his gaze grimly tracing the spot where a craft knife was mixed in with the shards of shattered glass on the floor. A voice seemed to echo in his head.

“Why hesitate? One cut and the pain will be gone. It would only sting for a moment. Your parents already divorced and remarried. They have their own children now. They’ve abandoned you. Go on, end it! Find the sweet release of death!”

‘If you didn’t love each other, why did you marry? Why did you have me? You both have your own families now. What about me? What am I to you?’

Ethan’s gaze turned increasingly fierce, a firm resolution setting in. He pushed himself off the wheelchair, trying to stand. With no support from his legs, he fell onto the ground. Glass shards sliced his palm, blood spilling and staining the wooden floor. He reached out amidst the wreckage, grabbed the craft knife, and slid the button upward, revealing the sharp blade. All it took was a single, swift cut across his wrist, and he would find his escape. As he laid the blade against his wrist, a jujube was tossed in through the window, landing neatly beside him. Then another, each bigger and redder than the last, their color matching the blood pooling on the floor.

next moment, a jujube hit him squarely on the head. Pain flared. The fruit fell to the floor, rolling off

Ethan had no words.

pleasant voice floated in from

day; it’s unhealthy. If you ever want more, just let me know.

stirred the household staff within the mansion.

Who’s talking in the

his future. Perhaps it was because she empathized with him; she knew what it felt like to be abandoned by everyone—helpless

voice receded, Ethan’s eyes,

see

something in him, a hint of a change. It was as if the dying embers of a fire that was about to

housekeeper looked around but found no one. Thinking

Madelyn filled two bags with the jujubes, then climbed down the ladder to head home. As she returned, Rosario, just descending from the third floor, was about to call her when she noticed

back to your room and change your

replying calmly, “It’s fine. Here, Rosario, taste these jujubes I’ve picked.