Woke Up and Left the Cage of My Marriage 30
Chapter 30
A few days later, a polar research team from Germany, straying off their planned route, made a shocking discovery-they found Ethan, nearly buried under ice and snow.
Amazingly, he still had the faintest sign of life.
The team jumped into action, performing emergency rescue before rushing him to the best hospital in Reykjavik.
After dozens of hours of rescue, Ethan miraculously survived.
But his injuries were catastrophic. Both legs had been exposed to extreme cold for so long that most of the tissue had died. His life was saved, but his legs were left disabled. For the rest of his life, he would most likely depend on a wheelchair.
A private plane flew him back home, where he was admitted to the top private hospital in South City for the best possible treatment and care.
His life was saved, but the Ethan who once ruled South City with unstoppable power was now truly “gone.”
When he woke up, he stopped speaking.
No tears, no smiles, no outbursts.
No reaction at all to the world around him.
Doctors, nurses, distant relatives from the Fletcher family, and even his former employees tried talking to him, but there was never any response.
He just stared with blank, lifeless eyes-sometimes at the ceiling, sometimes out the window -gazing for hours, day after day.
Like a breathing puppet, carved to perfection, but with a soul long since shattered and
scattered beneath the dazzling auroras and the cold glaciers of Iceland.
Months passed. His physical health finally stabilized, but his mind showed no improvement.
He was transferred to a quiet, high-end rehab center on the outskirts of the city.
There were professional caregivers with him around the clock.
When the weather was nice, they would wheel him into the garden for some sun.
Still, he said nothing. He sat there, unmoving, as lifeless as a statue.
One afternoon, sunlight was warm.
A caregiver pushed his wheelchair beneath a blossoming tree, then stepped away to take a
Chapter 30
phone call.
Not far away, an outdoor TV was playing international news.
The image changed. Now, it was the award ceremony of the Venice International Art Exhibition.
The famous Asian-American jewelry designer Natalie Bennett appeared on the red carpet arm- in-arm with her husband, business tycoon Derek Lawson.
Natalie wore a white, custom-made gown. Her makeup was flawless. Her smile shone bright and confident as she linked her arm with Derek’s, her whole presence radiant and full of happiness.
Anyone looking closely could see the gentle, obvious curve of her belly.
Derek never let go of her for a second, watching her with love and adoration in his eyes.
During the interview, the couple held hands, their happiness obvious to everyone.
A reporter asked about the baby.
Derek smiled and said, “This is our most precious gift.”
Natalie just looked down and gently stroked her belly, her face glowing with the warmth and
softness of a soon-to-be mother.
The TV wasn’t loud, but Ethan heard every word.
The shifting light and shadows from the screen filled his empty gaze.
For the longest time, Ethan had been motionless, stone-faced. Now, his thin, bony fingers on the armrest suddenly trembled-almost too small to notice, but so fierce it seemed to hurt.
Then, something cold and silent slipped down his pale, hollow cheek.
One drop.
Another.
The collar of his hospital gown darkened with tears.
Still, his face never changed. His eyes stayed hollow, staring somewhere far away. tears were nothing more than a physical reaction, completely unrelated to his soul.
-as if those
Only the trembling, veined back of his hand betrayed the storm within-a silent, total agony tearing him apart.
The caregiver came back, saw the scene, sighed, picked up the remote, and quietly turned off
the TV.
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The garden was left with nothing but sunlight, the scent of flowers, and a silence like death.
It was as if, for the rest of his days, Ethan would stay locked in that cold shell, swallowed up by endless regret and darkness, until life itself finally let him go.
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