Chapter 316 I Have Never Regretted It
Dylan, who had never been particular about cleanliness, spent half an hour just washing his hands this time.
His fingers turned pale and wrinkled from soaking.
Dylan brought his fingers close to his nose and sniffed, then frowned again.
Finally, he found some alcohol, poured it into a basin, and carefully soaked his hands.
Then he bundled up all the clothes he had been wearing, threw them in the trash, and took a long shower.
Because the bodyguards couldn't stand the smell of the corpse either, Dylan had to do it himself.
Dylan held a scalpel in his hand. He pictured Juniper's body as a giant steak.
Then he cut and separated the flesh.
Throughout the whole process, Dylan didn't say a word.
Whatever William ordered, he would carry out without question.
But Juniper's body wasn't a steak after all.
After forcing himself through it all, he hit his limit.
Dylan lay in the hot bathtub, eyes closed, all strength drained from his body.
His chest rose and fell slightly.
Another night passed.
Benjamin woke up in a hospital bed. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on his side on the white mattress.
William had kindly sent him a phone.
Not only did it keep his original phone number, but it also had all his data backed up.
When he lit up the screen and looked at the rows of contacts,
he felt strangely moved.
He thought, maybe William wasn't so bad after all.
Maybe there had just been too many misunderstandings between him and Isabella back then.
If William didn't love Isabella, why would he keep her body and never let anyone bury her?
He still remembered that day when the news of Isabella's death came from William.
Benjamin had seen it clearly—he had caught that hint of grief hidden in William's eyes.
This was genuine emotion; it couldn't possibly be fake.
But when he thought about Isabella being dead, Benjamin still couldn't accept this fact.
How could his perfectly fine daughter just suddenly die?
They had even talked before he fell unconscious.
On one side was his wife, who had left him, and on the other were his two daughters, both dead in tragic ways.
Benjamin sat up and leaned against the headboard, tilting his neck to look at the sunlight streaming through the window.
"How did my daughter die?"
"Why are both of them gone?"
His voice was weak, his eyes filled with tears.
It wasn't until a caregiver came in and greeted him that his attention shifted.
"You can tell me if you want to eat anything."
"Mr. Spencer has instructed that whatever you want to eat, he'll arrange it for you."
Benjamin shook his head, his eyes never leaving the window.
"I don't want to eat anything."
The caregiver looked at the dejected Benjamin, sighed, and said,
"Mr. Spencer mentioned that he'll come visit you today."
Benjamin said nothing, just waved his hand at him.
He lay there all morning until the afternoon when William actually came.
William not only came in person but also brought fruit and a photo album.
When he entered, Benjamin was still in the same position, his neck seemingly never getting sore.
William put down the fruit basket, then handed the photo album to Benjamin.
"I know you're upset."
"I understand how you feel."
William took a deep breath. "People always learn to cherish things after losing them. Only after losing them do they realize how precious those insignificant moments of happiness, those ordinary moments, really were."
As he spoke, he placed the album on the blanket.
"I don't like taking photos."
"There are very few photos of Isabella, too."
"But I went to your house and found this album."
"I thought you must really need it."
Benjamin's neck finally turned. He looked down at the album on the blanket.
His hand trembling, he picked up the album.
On top was a family photo. Isla was still young then, and the Isabella sisters hadn't grown up yet.
His two lovely daughters were only five years old.
In the photo, little Beatrice looked innocent and adorable, with a pink hair clip in her hair.
Standing next to her, Isabella was very quiet, like a delicate little princess.
But her eyes kept drifting to the ice cream in Beatrice's hand.
Benjamin's fingers traced over the photo. He touched young Isabella's cheek in the picture.
His eyes immediately became moist.
His mouth trembled as he said,
"I failed you. I didn't protect you."
"I was too weak. I never really talked to your mother."
"If I had been firmer back then, if I had always stood by you..."
Benjamin's voice caught in his throat, unable to continue.
Isabella had suffered so much injustice. His youngest daughter had never received the care of her family.
He was an unqualified father. He didn't deserve to be Isabella's father.
He had clearly seen Isla's attitude toward Isabella.
But he did nothing, couldn't do anything right.
He could have... he could have made Isla change her attitude.
He still remembered that day when he drove after them, with only one thing on his mind.
In the car, he kept urging Isabella to hold on, to wait, that he would be there soon.
A crystal tear fell on the photo, blooming like a flower with a ring of blurred edges.
William looked at Benjamin, looked at that photo.
He remained silent the whole time.
He couldn't help thinking, was his heart really made of stone?
Maybe Benjamin shouldn't have been brought into this game.
But this thought only lasted half a second.
He couldn't turn back. He was someone destined for hell.
How could someone heading for hell have mercy in their heart?
Benjamin continued flipping through the photos.
He stared at each photo for a long time.
With each new photo, he would pause and recall the memory of when it was taken.
He didn't know that even five-year-old Beatrice carried a wound that would never heal.
It had been caused by selfish, cowardly Isla abandoning her daughter.
This secret had been hidden in her heart for over ten years, never told to anyone.
But now everyone knew.
The secret was no longer a secret.
Only Benjamin was still in the dark.
He seemed cut off from this world, and William had no intention of telling him.
He only said to himself that now was not the time yet.
Right now, his role was that of a good son-in-law who mourned his late wife and respected his father-in-law.
Benjamin turned to the last page of the album.
He suddenly looked up at William and said,
"After Isabella left, did you regret it?"
William didn't dare look him in the eye. He walked to the window. He could feel his own heart contracting again, as if being squeezed hard by a fist.
William looked down at the hospital courtyard below. On a bench, a girl in a dress was feeding a guy in a hospital gown.
The girl held a lunch box, her eyes full of nothing but the guy, unable to look away from him.
William's low voice slowly sounded.
"I've never regretted it."
Benjamin's expression froze...