Chapter 700 Life Was Long
Meryl’s gaze settled on the shadow cast by the kitchen light onto the floor. The room was dark, but that faint glow brought a touch of warmth. She brushed back a strand of hair. “Is she… okay?”
She was asking about Rachel. Chandler froze for a moment mid-action. He always knew Meryl was kind, but even after all she’d been through, it surprised him that she still cared about Rachel’s well-being at a time like this.
She could have yelled at him, thrown things, lashed out in anger. Instead, the moment he walked in, she chose to swallow her emotions, close her eyes, and pretend to be asleep. He thought, “What a foolish woman.”
A pang of guilt flickered in Chandler’s eyes. As he spoke, his hands moved deftly, chopping the washed ingredients and arranging them neatly on a plate. “She just got out of surgery, but she’s not out of danger yet. She’s in the ICU now. Whether she makes it or not depends entirely on her own will.”
He’d only caught a brief glimpse of Rachel when she was wheeled out of the operating room. She looked so fragile, still unconscious, before the medical staff rushed her into the ICU.
Rachel was under strict monitoring for vital signs. Chandler heard that only one or two out of a hundred ICU patients ever walked out alive. Most of them were like “the living dead,” barely responsive, relying on machines to cling to life.
Meryl was stunned. She thought, “Rachel is in critical care?”
She’d heard terrible things about the ICU–that being alive there could feel worse than dying. You never knew when the patient in the next bed would take their last breath. And the worst part? Every single bed was filled with people in that state.
“Why would someone go so far as to take her kidney? Who’s behind this?” Meryl asked.
Chandler’s expression darkened. “It’s a criminal syndicate. The police are interrogating them, but they’re tight-lipped. They refuse to reveal anything about who’s pulling the strings.”
Meryl was silent for a moment. Chandler added, “Their methods were brutal–something you’d only expect when dealing with a sworn enemy.”
That was what puzzled Chandler the most. He thought, “Rachel is just a vulnerable young woman. She has spent most of the past few years abroad. What kind of grudge could they possibly have against her to go to such extremes?”
Meryl didn’t respond. The sound of cooking filled the air, and before long, Chandler brought out a steaming plate of spaghetti. But this wasn’t just any plate of spaghetti—he’d thrown in every nutrient-rich ingredient he could think of.
On top, there was a perfectly fried egg, golden and crispy around the edges, enough to make anyone’s mouth water. Chandler propped up the small dining table and handed Meryl a fork. “Try it. If it doesn’t taste good, I’ll make you another one.”
As he spoke, he picked up another plate for himself and started wolfing it down. Meryl frowned and thought, “Has he not eaten all day?”
Glancing at Chandler’s plate, she noticed it only had a few plain strands of spaghetti–completely different from the hearty meal in front of her. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say.
It had only been two days since she’d last seen him, but Chandler looked worn out. Even his jawline seemed sharper, making him appear noticeably thinner.
Before long, Walter walked in, bringing clean clothes and a towel. After finishing his food, Chandler headed straight for the bathroom, stripping off his bloodstained clothes.
Meryl heard the sound of a razor followed by running water. Her gaze drifted to the window. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Chandler didn’t need to say anything—she could feel how exhausted he was. The kind of weariness that came from deep within.
When Chandler emerged, freshly showered and dressed in clean pajamas, he looked more put-together, but the red veins in his eyes stood out even more. Walking up to Meryl, he asked softly, “Can I sleep on the bed?”
Meryl frowned, “Of course not.”
Life Was Long
“Oh.” A flicker of disappointment crossed Chandler’s face, so brief it almost seemed imagined. “Then you sleep. I’ll stay here with you. I’m not going anywhere this time.” With that, he pulled up a chair and sat by her bedside.
Meryl thought, “Is he seriously just going to sit there and watch me sleep?”
The house was so quiet that even their murmured conversation could be heard outside the door, where Walter hadn’t left yet. “Mrs. Aniston, Mr. Aniston stayed by your hospital bed all night yesterday. He didn’t even close his eyes. At the crack of dawn, he rushed out to save someone. If he stays up another night, I don’t think his body can take it.”
Walter’s words rang true. Chandler’s face was pale and drawn- the look of someone pushed to their limits.
“What are you still doing here?” Chandler frowned, clearly annoyed by Walter’s interruption.
“I love my job. Work makes me happy. Mr. Aniston, I’m volunteering for overtime–no need to pay me extra,” Walter quickly added.
“Double your year-end bonus. Now leave,” Chandler said.
Walter’s eyes lit up, but he tried to maintain a calm expression. “Yes. I’ll leave right away and make sure not to disturb you two.”
Meryl wondered, “Did Chandler really stay by my bedside all night yesterday?” She couldn’t be sure, but Walter didn’t seem like the type to lie about this.
She lowered her eyes, glancing at the other half of the bed. She thought, “Maybe it won’t be so bad to share.”
“Meryl, if you’re not sleepy, can we talk?” Chandler asked, his gaze steady on her.
Meryl looked up. “What do you want to talk about? That you feel sorry for abandoning me to save Rachel?”
Chandler’s face was hidden in shadow.
Meryl pressed on. “That you regret not being there when I was in that car accident? Or is it that, if you could do it all over again, you’d still choose to save her a hundred times over?”
Chandler replied, “Yes. I would.”
Hearing his answer, Meryl’s lips curved into a bitter smile, as though she’d expected nothing less. “You had your reasons, and I understand. But every time you choose her, it leaves me behind.”
Frustration welled up in Chandler’s chest.
Meryl sneered, “Maybe you think I’m being unreasonable, getting upset when her life was at stake. Over time, will you start to see me as a burden? Will you grow to resent me for not being more understanding?”
“Of course not!” Chandler cut in immediately.
But Meryl interrupted him, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never be your priority, Chandler. And that’s not something I can live with.”
She met his gaze, her tone calm but resolute. “Chandler, we’re both good people. But instead of dragging this marriage to a point where we start to hate each other, let’s end it now–before it’s too late.”
Chandler used to be exactly the man Meryl dreamed of. He was perfect in every way–so perfect that she thought she could marry him and live happily ever after.
He was such an exceptional man, and yet he didn’t mind her complicated past, even the fact that she had once been involved with her nephew. He still supported her and gave her a safety net when she needed it.
But everything changed the moment Rachel appeared. Their life as a couple turned into life as a trio. Chandler, drawn to Rachel time and again, became distant, both physically and emotionally. This wasn’t the life Meryl wanted.
Chandler’s voice, shaken with emotion, rose slightly. His bloodshot eyes reflected disbelief. “Meryl, are you saying you want a divorce?”
Meryl nodded. “I told you before we got married–if we ever divorced, I’d leave with nothing.”
After all, when she married Chandler, she had nothing to her name. She came into this marriage with just herself, and he had given her everything–security, comfort, even a bottomless credit card to cover household expenses.
Meryl was genuinely grateful to him for all of it. She reached into the drawer and pulled out a sleek black credit card. “This is the card you gave me when we got married. I barely used it. I’m giving it back to you now.”
Her face remained calm, her voice soft, as though she were merely stating a fact. She and Chandler had shared many wonderful moments together. In this marriage, Meryl had felt a long-forgotten warmth. She had experienced Chandler’s care and his tendency to always take her side.
She had loved him deeply. If anyone were to ask her in the future, Meryl would say that Chandler had been a good husband. Their divorce wasn’t because he was a bad person, but simply because they weren’t right for each other.
After all, life was long, and some people were only meant to walk part of the journey with you. Along the way, someone would always get off the train first. That was why Meryl didn’t want their relationship to end in an ugly fight.
Even if the ending wasn’t ideal, the journey they had shared was still meaningful. She would always be grateful for the time Chandler had shielded her, supported her, and showered her with care.
Tears glistened in Meryl’s eyes, her nose stung with a sharp ache, and she took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked uncontrollably. “I just want custody of my son. I don’t want anything else. Chandler, let’s end this. Let’s get a divorce.”