Chapter 280 Beyond the Pain of the Flesh
Was Alexander's distraction mistaken by Elena as silent support?
The whole thing felt absurd to him.
It also made him suddenly realize how despicable he was.
He hadn't done anything, yet it was as if he'd taken credit that should have belonged to Lina. She was the one who'd been working hard all along.
"Are you thinking you don't deserve that thank you?" Lina suddenly asked.
He snapped back to attention. He noticed the clinic door was already closed, and she was standing in front of him, very close.
"You think everything you do is wrong," her tone was flat. "You were wrong when you did bad things, and when you thought you were doing good things, you were still completely wrong."
His lips moved, but he couldn't make a sound.
"That's correct," she went on. "Are you also of the belief that you are inherently awful, and therefore, simply by being alive, you are certain to cause harm to others?"
He opened his mouth to argue, but she didn't let him speak.
"You also want to ask me, since you're this kind of person, why do I still let you be my assistant, why do I let you keep living?" She looked at him. "You want to ask me why I don't just let you die, or even kill you myself?"
He clenched his fists, and finally nodded heavily.
She let out a short, cold laugh, then turned and walked to sit at her desk.
"Because you need to stay alive," she enunciated each word clearly. "You need to stay alive to feel the pain, and someone needs to pull you back to reality from time to time, forcing you to remember this pain. Only this way will you think deeper and truly see where you went wrong."
She lifted her drinking glass and swallowed a mouthful of water, then resumed speaking. "Do not be concerned — this, too, is a type of therapy."
The root of many psychological problems is either that a person knows themselves too well but can't accept their true self, or they don't know themselves at all but think they do, until things spiral out of control and they suddenly break down. You're clearly the latter."
He could tell her words were harsh.
They didn't sound like something a psychologist would say, but he accepted them anyway.
He even found that the sharper she made her words, the less room he had to retreat. The pain brought by her words was direct, like a knife landing precisely on the places he least wanted to face, forcing him to be more clearheaded.
This effect was stronger than when he'd tortured his own body before. Having the bodyguard whip him hadn't been this effective.
"So what did you learn today?" She crossed her arms, her gaze not shifting away. "I saw you spacing out for a long time when Elena lost control during treatment. You must have remembered a lot of things. How did you handle it when Caroline had her episodes?"
His fingers suddenly tightened.
"You found her doctors, you gave her medication," she finished for him. "You also chose hypnosis, making her think she was Edith, because you wanted to save the baby in her belly."
His body began to tremble.
"I..." he finally squeezed out a voice. "I was just afraid she couldn't handle losing the baby. It was hard for her to get pregnant. If she lost the baby, she might never have children again..."
"Why was it hard for her to get pregnant?" Her voice suddenly turned cold. "Wasn't the reason you?"
He turned his face away, jaw clenched tight.
She didn't give him space to hide.
"You locked her up, you forced her to become someone else," she stared at him, eyes sharp. "You destroyed her body, you shattered her spirit, and you ruined her ability to have children."
"And after that, you claim that you were considering her well-being?" Her tone turned even chillier. "You say that you were worried she would not be able to endure the anguish of miscarrying the child?"
He raised his hand to cover his face. Sobs surged from his throat, he couldn't suppress them, his breathing torn into fragments.
"You were simply finding justifications for your own actions," she continued without any gentleness. "You desired that child. You never genuinely took Caroline into account, not even once."
His hand slid from his face, as if suddenly losing strength. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor.
He wanted to explain.
He wanted to say it wasn't like that. He wanted to say he was just afraid of losing her, afraid she couldn't handle it.
But he ultimately couldn't speak.
Even if the things he claimed were accurate, her interpretation caused those "facts" to appear painfully obvious, since he indeed had desired that child, and he truly had not prioritized Caroline.
Every decision he made, from beginning to end, was from his own perspective. It was for his own obsession, for his own desires. Even when he told himself it was for Caroline's good, that was only what he believed was "good for her."
Her words tore open his last bit of self-defense. His psychological defenses collapsed completely. It was as if he was forced to stand in front of a mirror and see the side of himself he didn't want to acknowledge.
For a moment, he suddenly understood something.
Some people have mental illnesses and have family members who love them very much, but the family still shows helplessness when they repeatedly try to end their lives, and eventually stops intervening.
Because for some people, letting go might also be a choice. That's not cold-bloodedness, but a decision the family makes after completely putting themselves in the other person's shoes.
He couldn't do that.
So he was still the person who most directly harmed Caroline, and no excuse could erase that fact.
He could no longer keep himself together. He dropped his head, hid his face with both palms, and wept openly, doing his best to stifle the noise.
She stood in front of him, just watching. She didn't hand him tissues, didn't comfort him, didn't say another word.
She just stood there, her gaze calm.
When he returned to the old mansion, Damon had already arrived.
Damon's paralysis hadn't improved. The doctors said that given his age and cancer, just stabilizing his condition and keeping him alive was already very difficult, and he had to accept the reality of other aftereffects.
Given the state of his health at this time, it would have been better for him to remain indoors. Yet, upon learning that Alexander wished to meet with him, he still decided to come.
After seeing Alexander, he didn't know what to say.
Caroline's situation had always stood between them, and he resented the other man.
At the same time, he'd heard from Mark about how the other man had suddenly lost his mind, then recovered after a strong shock. This information made him even more afraid to speak.
He was concerned that if he used overly sharp words, he could cause the other person to revert to a state of being out of control. At the same time, however, he could not find it in himself to offer any words of consolation.
The two men just looked at each other like this, the silence lasting a long time, neither speaking first.
Finally, Alexander broke the silence.
"Mr. Neville, please sit," Alexander's voice was very controlled. "Is your health better?"
He was struck by this greeting, his mind going blank for a moment.
It had been many years since he'd heard Alexander address him this way.
At that moment, he almost felt as though he had traveled backward many years, to a time when the children were still young and before everything had fallen completely apart.
Back then, it was as if he was just visiting the Hamilton family. In a little while, a servant would come over, or the children would run over, telling him dinner was ready.