Chapter 10
Remy watched as Gerard was dragged away, his face full of disgust and contempt.
Then he came over to my bedside, gently holding my bandaged hand with a look of deep concern.
“I’m so sorry, Adrienne. I should’ve gotten to you sooner.
“I’ve already reached out to top rehab centers and specialists overseas. They believe there’s a good chance your hands will regain most of their function—and at the very least, you’ll be able to live normally.
“Will you come with me? Let me stay by your side, not just for recovery, but for the rest of our lives?”
I looked at the man in front of me–the one who had broken through the locked cold storage door with nothing but an axe and sheer desperation. In the end, tears welled up in my eyes as I finally nodded.
When he carried me out of that freezing room, his eyes were bloodshot, and his arms trembled as he held me tight.
“Why were you so stupid?”
I asked him through tears.
He took my hand and pressed it softly to his cheek.
“I’ve been with you since school,” he whispered. “And I swore I’d always protect you. If something had happened to you in there, I wouldn’t be able to live. Without you, there’s no place in this world for me.”
That broke me and my tears came pouring out.
And in that moment, I knew that I had finally found the right person.
So I said yes and gave him my heart.
248 Vouchers
He wrapped me in his arms like I was the most precious thing in the world. Meanwhile, his lips kept brushing my forehead again and again, tears sliding down his cheeks.
Not long after, Remy took me abroad for treatment and recovery.
Gerard was convicted on multiple charges and sentenced to prison. Because of this, his café went under.
Elise, too, was hit with the full force of the law for what she did.
Before serving his sentence, Gerard sent me a thick letter.
I didn’t read a single word of it. Instead, I tore it to pieces and let the wind carry it away in that foreign land.
Anyone who hurts me has no right to ask for forgiveness.
Because now I finally have someone who truly loves me.
