To My Beloved Oppressor

Chapter 25

Annette did not wake up for several days.

In a corner of the room with little light, Heiner sat pensively. His dark gray eyes remained fixed on the face of the woman lying on the bed.

He was afraid that her pale, closed eyes would never open. His head knew that guarding his seat like this would make no difference, but his body did not obey reason.

He rubbed his face, feeling out of it from not sleeping properly. His usually neat appearance was now completely disheveled.

"Fortunately, the wound is not deep enough to kill her."

That was what the doctor said. In the first place, it was difficult to die by slitting her wrists. That was the part that Heiner also knew.

But Annette did not wake up. He didn't need all those words about not dying from such a thing. She did not wake up. That was the only conclusion left.

The doctor gave various reasons for this.

First, she was still not fully recovered from the aftereffects of the previous gunshot wound and miscarriage. Even if she had not, she was at a point where she needed more time to recover, and the combination of these events had left her completely debilitated.

Also, it was not 'enough to die', but the wound itself was quite deep, so he said that she was probably in shock due to excessive bleeding.

Finally, he said it might be a matter of the patient's own will.

He said it might be because the patient didn't want to wake up.

"Annette."

Heiner mumbled in a cracked voice.

"Annette Valdemar."

Despite countless attempts to pronounce it, it was still an unfamiliar name. He chuckled briefly and slowly bowed his head.

"It makes no sense that you did that. The idea that you did such a thing... impossible."

Heiner couldn't look at her face and kept his eyes on the floor as he continued.

"You're afraid of many things. You're afraid of the dark, you're afraid of heights... you're afraid of water... you're afraid of blood..."

His throat tightened. Heiner gritted his teeth.

She was a woman of many terrible things. She was a timid and weak woman. She was just a woman who had been raised so beautifully without knowing anything truly unfortunate and miserable.

Even now, his opinion had not changed. Annette's decision to end her life was not because she suddenly had the courage to die.

It was just because her life was more frightening than death right now.

'You got what you wanted.'

A faint whisper echoed in his mind.

'She is unhappy enough to die. Just like you wanted.'

Yes. He had wished that the woman, who had lived her life enjoying only every beautiful and good thing, would be terribly unhappy at one time. As he had been.

'There were times I wished you were dead. It would be so much easier on my mind if you could just disappear from the world.'

At one time, he wanted that. Many times he thought about killing her. But in the end, he couldn't.

In the end, he couldn't.

But it turned out like this.

His large upper body gradually crumpled on the bed. He was slumped in a crumpled heap and buried his face in his hands.