The unwanted wife’s unexpected comeback

Chapter 1125:

At that time, Gemma had worn ragged clothes, her eyes lingering on the beautiful dresses of other little girls her age. Yet, whenever she looked at Corey, there was no envy—only a fierce loyalty and quiet resilience.

Corey had always wanted to give Gemma a dress she could be proud of. But by the time he could afford one, her illness had worsened. He filled their home with dresses, but Gemma was too weak to leave home and wear them in the world she longed to see.

After Pierre’s death, Gemma’s nights were filled with restless tears. In her dreams, she would beg him to stop killing.

Corey’s chest tightened with unbearable pain. Slowly, he released his grip on the gun. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

That same day, Corey bought a ticket to return home. But before he could board, Alicia called him. “You should come back,” she said, her voice calm but heavy.

Corey’s chest constricted. Alicia hadn’t mentioned Gemma, but he didn’t need her to. His gut told him what she couldn’t say aloud. Gemma was running out of time.

Corey’s fists clenched as he struggled to respond. The words stuck in his throat, weighed down by anguish. Each second of waiting before the plane took off was pure agony, like being stabbed repeatedly with a blade that twisted deeper with every moment.noveldrama

Then, as if mocking him, a thunderstorm rolled in, delaying the flight. Corey sat alone in the terminal, his hands trembling. He couldn’t shake the thought of Gemma suffering, her small frame wracked with pain. The regret, the helplessness, the despair—it all consumed him, gnawing at his soul.

With shaking hands, Corey pulled out his phone and called his medical team. “Prepare for surgery. I’ll be back in three hours.” The doctor hesitated. “Mr. Hampton, do you have a heart donor lined up?”

Corey’s voice cracked. “Use mine.”

The doctor’s tone turned urgent. “But your blood type doesn’t match Gemma’s. You know this.”

Corey had known for a long time. He had run the tests himself. He couldn’t save her. But the thought of doing nothing tore him apart. “I don’t care. Do it anyway. Try anything.”

Gemma had always imagined that, at the end of her life, she would look pitiful. But decades of pain had conditioned her for suffering. Right now, lying in the bed of the emergency room in the villa Corey had bought for her, she found herself clinging to the smallest comforts. Alicia sat beside her, holding her frail hand gently.

“Your brother will be back soon,” Alicia murmured, stroking Gemma’s hair with a tenderness that made Gemma’s chest ache.

Gemma turned her head slightly, nuzzling Alicia’s palm. She knew the truth. Her time was almost up. Corey raced back to see her one last time, but the thought of him crying at her bedside filled her with dread. She had endured so much pain—she could endure more—but the thought of seeing her brother’s heartbreak was unbearable.

Gemma closed her eyes for a moment, summoning the last bit of strength she had. Slowly, she scratched Alicia’s palm. “Alicia,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I want to change my clothes.”

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