I Marry for Real, and Now They Regret It

Chapter 9

But honestly, whether Esther had depression or not didn't matter anymore.

Peter trailed behind me, saying nothing, just following silently like a shadow.

I couldn't help but remember when I first came back. I was timid, always scared of the dark. Peter used to stand guard with a little sword by my bedroom door, waiting until I fell asleep before he could go to bed himself.

He once promised to protect me forever.

But that was before he got involved in the cruel game they played to humiliate me.

"Sara, I'm so sorry…" Peter's voice cracked with guilt. "I thought Esther needed more attention than you… I never thought it would hurt you like this."

He hung his head low, like a child caught red-handed. But no apology could erase the memory of all the times he'd twisted my emotions just to make Esther happy.

Like that one birthday when they set off a balloon filled with flammable gas near me, and the explosion burned my long, beloved hair beyond recognition. I spent hours crying, chopping it all off into a short, uneven bob.

Peter, full of regret, said, "If I had known how dangerous it was, I would've never done it. What if something had happened to Esther?"

I could barely choke out, "Then what am I to you?"

I'll never forget his words. "I only have one sister. Making Esther happy is your honor."

Tyler apologized too, dropping his usual arrogance for a change. "I'm sorry."

They promised to protect me, vowed no one would hurt me again. But in the end, they were the ones who caused me the most pain.

When you're happy, you want to forget the past. But forgetting doesn't mean forgiving.

I never accepted their apologies.

After the truth about Esther's lies came out, she seemed to fall into a real depression. She became a shell of the person she used to be—quiet, withdrawn. But after all the damage she caused, no one was buying it anymore.

One day, she grabbed me by the arm, looking like she hadn't slept in days. Her voice was raw, full of venom. "Are you happy now? Everyone's back to caring about you. Do you even know how hard I tried to make them see me? Why should it be you?"

Her face was pale, eyes hollow.

I just stood there, unfazed.

The day I found out I was pregnant, Jerome was over the moon, literally spinning me in circles. I couldn't help but post about it on social media, sharing the news with my friends.

Then, about half an hour later, Peter called.

"Arnold's been in a car accident," he said, his voice tense.

I found out that Arnold had gotten drunk after learning about my pregnancy and crashed his car on the highway.

"He's in critical condition. He's been calling your name. Please, Sara. Go see him."

I felt nothing.

That was his own mess, and I wasn't cleaning it up.

In the end, Arnold ended up paralyzed from the waist down, his future uncertain.

Jerome and I ran into him at a routine checkup. He was a shadow of the man he used to be—depressed, an alcoholic, struggling with rehab.

Tyler and Peter's company had fallen apart after Jerome's company pulled out, and they tried reaching out to me again. But I kept them at a distance.

And as I stood there, hand tightly clasped in Jerome's, I felt more sure than ever that I was exactly where I was meant to be.