Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 486: Why would you agree on something like that..

Chapter 486: Why would you agree on something like that..

[Hospital]

Roseline did not know when exhaustion had claimed her. One moment she had been sitting beside his bed, staring at the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the next she was jolted awake by the faint shift of movement.

Hugo was awake.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Hugo... how are you feeling?" she asked carefully.

He did not respond.

His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, unblinking, distant. The silence stretched painfully between them, thick and suffocating. It was as if he was somewhere far away, trapped in thoughts she could not reach.

Fear crawled up her spine.

"I will call the doctor," she said quickly, her voice trembling as she rose from the chair and hurried out of the room.

When she returned with the doctor, Hugo had not moved an inch. The sight unsettled her more than before. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Mr. Bennett, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked as he stepped beside the bed.

For a brief second, nothing happened.

Then Hugo’s eyes shifted.

"How bad was it?" he asked quietly.

The question stunned everyone in the room.

He remembered.

He remembered the crushing pain in his chest. The way his body had failed him. The suffocating thought that he might never speak again. For a fleeting moment back in his study, he had truly believed he would die alone, unseen and unheard.

"You were brought here at the right time by Mrs. Bennett," the doctor replied gently.

At those words, Hugo’s body went rigid. A subtle reaction, but unmistakable. Yet he did not turn to look at Roseline.

The doctor continued his examination, checking his vitals and adjusting the IV. After a few more reassurances that his condition was stable and he needed rest, he left the ward.

Silence fell again.

Roseline, who had been standing quietly to the side, stepped closer to the bed. She hesitated only for a moment before placing her trembling hand over his.

"You scared me, Hugo," she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision. "I thought I lost you."

Her voice broke at the end.

It was the sound of her vulnerability that finally made him turn his head toward her.

His gaze met hers, but there was no warmth in it. No softness. Only something distant. Detached.

"Were you scared for me," he asked slowly, "or because if I died, you would lose everything?"

The words struck her like a physical blow.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Disbelief flooded her expression.

"How can you say that?" she breathed.

"Now that I am left with nothing," he continued, his voice calm in a way that frightened her more than anger ever could, "how will you survive, Roseline?"

"What are you saying?" Her fingers tightened around his hand instinctively. "What do you mean you are left with nothing?"

His eyes were empty. Hollow.

There was no accusation in his tone, no raised voice, no bitterness on the surface. Yet the quiet distance in him felt far more devastating. As if something inside him had shifted permanently.

He did not answer her.

He simply looked away, turning his face toward the window.

The gesture was small, but it felt like a door closing.

Roseline stood there frozen, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. The man who once filled the room with authority and certainty now felt unreachable. She had feared losing him to death only hours ago.

Now she feared she had already lost him to something far worse. And that scared her to the bone.

Silence still lingered in the room when the ward door opened softly.

Kathrine stepped inside.

Roseline quickly wiped at her damp cheeks and moved aside, creating space as Kathrine walked further in. There was a quiet firmness in Kathrine’s steps, a restraint in her posture that barely concealed the storm within her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, pulling a chair closer to the bed.

Hugo looked at her.

And for the first time since waking up, a faint smile touched his lips.

"Not dead yet."

The words were spoken lightly, almost teasingly. But the weight behind them settled heavily in Kathrine’s chest.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," she replied, her tone sharper than she intended. A warning wrapped inside reassurance. She kept her expression composed, though her fingers curled tightly against her palm.

She might have been disappointed in him. Hurt. Angry at times.

But she had never wished for his absence.

Not like this.

Hugo watched her for a quiet moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes. There was familiarity in the way he looked at her, something softer than what Roseline had received only minutes ago.

"I will be outside," Roseline murmured suddenly.

Her voice sounded small in the room.

She could not bear the contrast. The warmth in Hugo’s tone when speaking to Kathrine, the ease in his expression. It stood in painful contrast to the cold distance he had shown her.

Before Kathrine could respond, Roseline turned and walked out of the ward.

The door closed gently behind her.

Inside, father and daughter were left alone.

The room felt different now. Quieter, but no longer suffocating.

Hugo exhaled slowly, the faint humor from earlier dissolving into something heavier. His gaze drifted toward the ceiling again, but this time it was not distant. It was searching.

There was something unsettled in him. Something that had clearly been turning in his mind.

After a long pause, he spoke.

"Why didn’t you tell me Roseline sent you away on your wedding day?"

The question landed quietly, but it carried years of buried tension.

Kathrine blinked.

For a second, she genuinely wondered if she had misheard him. Of all the things he could have asked after nearly losing his life, this was not what she expected.

She studied him carefully.

Even in his weakened state, there was intent behind his eyes. A need to know. But was it regret? Or suspicion?

Her guard went up.

"Why are you asking me that now?" she replied instead, her voice calm but edged. "Because you finally see the truth... or because you are looking for someone to blame?"

The air in the room shifted.

Hugo did not answer immediately. His fingers tightened slightly against the bedsheet. The machines beside him continued their steady rhythm, indifferent to the emotional undercurrent rising between them.

"I deserve to know," he said at last. "That is my daughter we are talking about."

A faint, ironic smile curved Kathrine’s lips.

The word daughter had always felt fragile to her. If he had truly loved her the way he claimed, would he have kept her away from the truth? Would he have allowed her to live in confusion, piecing together broken memories while others decided what she deserved to know?

She held his gaze steadily.

"As always, I believed her," she said quietly. "She was the woman I called my mother. I trusted her without question. I truly thought she wanted what was best for me."

Her expression hardened.

"But she was only playing her cards at the right time."

Hugo’s eyes flickered.

The certainty he once carried about his household, about the woman he had chosen to stand beside him, began to fracture.

"I told you back then something was wrong," Kathrine continued. "You did not listen."

Her voice did not rise. It did not need to. The restraint in it made every word heavier.

"When I was gone, Anna became the scapegoat. Everything was wrapped in the name of sacrifice. Responsibility. Family honor."

A humorless smile touched her lips.

"But was it ever truly sacrifice?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Silence stretched between them again.

"I do not blame her for everything," Kathrine admitted after a moment, surprising even herself with the honesty. "Her decision... it did change Anna’s life. In a way, Anna got opportunities she would never have received in this house."

There was no bitterness when she said it. Only clarity.

"But how do you expect me to ignore the intentions behind it?" she asked, her eyes locking with Hugo’s once more. "How do I pretend that manipulation was protection? That control was love?"

Hugo swallowed.

For years, he had believed he was preserving peace in his family. Shielding them from chaos. Trusting the woman beside him to make choices he could not see the details of.

Now those very decisions stood before him in the form of his daughter’s steady, wounded gaze.

"I did not know," he murmured.

Kathrine’s expression softened slightly, but the ache remained.

"You did not want to know," she corrected gently.

The distinction was small.

But it changed everything.

Kathrine drew in a slow breath.

For years, she had forced herself to accept one truth without questioning it too deeply. Roseline was not her biological mother. Fine. Families were complicated. She could have lived with that.

But what she could never reconcile was something far darker.

Was Roseline simply flawed?

Or had she entered their lives with intention, weaving herself carefully into every decision, every silence, every fracture?

Kathrine’s eyes lifted to her father again.

"What made you erase my memories, Dad?" she asked.

There was no shouting. No dramatic flare.

Just quiet devastation.

"Why would you agree to something like that... knowing it would only cause me pain?"

The accusation lingered between them, but beneath it was something more fragile. Confusion. Betrayal. And a guilt she had carried for years without understanding why.