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My Ex-wife's Hidden Personalities

Chapter 424
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Chapter 424 Long Time No See and Never Again

Freya leaned in Radley’s arms, and Connor was all smiles in the front pa*senger seat.

“You know, Miss Kaufmann, Mr. Monaghan hasn’t had a proper meal since you disappeared. Finally, things are

looking up now,” Connor remarked.

Freya furrowed her brow as she looked at Radley. His already stern face now appeared even more gaunt, with

sharper angles.

His deep-set eyes and untamed short hair gave him a somewhat disheveled appearance.

Freya smiled and gently touched his face. “Looks like it’ll take some time to plump you back. up.”

Radley reached out to caress her face, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’ll have to do your best then.”

Freya chuckled but soon thought about her plans to leave the next day.

Fortunately, since Matthew had mentioned that he knew some authoritative institutions, it should be a quick process

to break free and return to Radley’s side.

The night had grown late, and after a long journey, Freya lay in Radley’s arms, gradually closing her eyes.

In the northern part of Kundin, inside a Floravalean-style villa, Edward opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for

a moment before sitting up abruptly.

As he tried to get out of bed, he realized that his feet were shackled with two padded ankle.

cuffs.

The cuffs were not designed to harm, but they limited his movement to the confines of the

room.

Edward furrowed his brow and called out, his voice hoarse, “Someone, come in!”

There was soon a commotion outside, and two maids hastily entered the room, pushing the door open.

“You called, Mr. Edward?”

Edward looked at them coldly. These two had previously addressed him as ‘Mr. Fraser.'”

It seemed that after the discovery, Jamie had no intention of continuing the charade.

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“Where is Jamie? I want to see him,” Edward demanded.

The two maids exchanged a glance. “Mr. Jamie is not here, Mr. Edward. But he said you can request anything from

us except for removing the shackles from your feet.”

Jamie’s not here?

Edward’s heart skipped a beat. “Did he go after Freya?”

The two maids looked bewildered. “Mr. Jamie didn’t tell us where he went; he only instructed. us to take care of

you.”

Edward’s expression grew cold, and his gaze fell on the shackles on his feet.

Jamie’s worried that I might try something, doesn’t he?

He took a deep breath, recalling Freya’s words that he needed to eat something no matter what.

At that, he looked at the two maids and said, “Go and prepare some food for me.”

The two maids immediately obliged and left the room.

Edward sat on the bed, attempting to undo the shackles on his feet. After a few minutes, he gave up; the shackles

weren’t budging, no matter how.

Looks like Jamie’s highly on guard against me.

He let out a bitter laugh. After waiting for about ten minutes, two maids entered the room, carrying food.

“Mr. Edward, shall we a*sist you with your meal?” one of the maids asked.

Edward’s expression remained cold. “No, you may leave.”

After eating a bit, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach, accompanied by a strong urge

to vomit.

Edward rushed into the bathroom, and luckily, the length of the chain on his shackles. allowed him to lean over the

sink and retch violently.

Once he was done vomiting, Edward turned on the tap and cleaned up what he had expelled before rinsing his

mouth.

After taking a sip of water, he vomited again, noticing red streaks in the expelled matter.

His throat felt as if it had been scratched by food, and it was painful and swollen.

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Due to the recent vomiting, his stomach began to cramp repeatedly.

He leaned against the bathroom wall, looking through the open door at the moonlight

outside.

If for Freya, he might not have even survived till this point. Thankfully, he had sent her away earlier, or he truly

wouldn’t have known if he had the strength to do it a few days later.

Edward sat in place for a while and waited until the pain gradually subsided before he returned to the bed, leaning

against the wall.

He bit his lip. He saw himself in the bathroom mirror-a gaunt figure that had already lost its former vitality.

Edward had always been proud, and he didn’t want to die like this.

He extended his arm, looking at his wrists that had become as thin as twigs, and his gaze slowly shifted to the

room.

All the sharp objects in the room had been removed. Even the vase that had originally been on the bedside had

been taken away.

Edward hesitated for a few seconds, then opened the bedside cabinet and, after searching through the clutter,

found a pen. The pen was a plastic marker, not considered a weapon.

From within, he retrieved a pillbox, opened it, and unfolded a piece of paper.

He sat on the floor, leaning against the bedside cabinet, and began writing slowly, line by

line.

“To my dearest brother, Jamie…’

The moonlight was pale and cruel, and as Edward wrote to the end, his fingertips trembled. slightly.

It turned out that no one was unafraid of death.

Death meant never seeing her face again, never hearing her voice.

No one would be there to calibrate her machines.

Edward licked his lips, and the dry skin immediately split, revealing a trace of blood.

I

He continued writing. Jamie, I already know I have less than a month left in this world, but I also understand you

very well. You care for me deeply. Just as I consider Freya my sun, know I’m your only concern in this world.

‘But advanced-stage stomach cancer is not something Freya or I can overcome. I believe it’s called fate. At least in

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these last two years of life, I’ve seen sunlight and regained hope.

Jamie, please spare Freya. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have had these joyful two years. I should have died in that

club a long time ago, just like you.

‘We owe her. I’m not asking you to repay anything, but please, spare her. This is my final wish.”

He wrote densely on the piece of paper with elegant yet orderly handwriting.

Edward solemnly placed the paper on the table.

He knew that if he didn’t end his life now, the remaining time might be spent under control, forced to undergo

chemotherapy.

He had already lived a good, warm life.

After completing everything, Edward hung the steel chain of the ankle shackles on the bedpost. The chain was as

thick as a thumb, and when hung on the bedpost, it reached a height of only half a person.

Edward’s gaze was gentle. He had once heard Freya talk about her work as a mortician.

She had once prepared the body of an elderly woman who had committed suicide by hanging. The woman had

hung herself from the doorknob. Originally, it was just a piece of twine, and because she lived alone, she had it

looped around the doorknob while the other end was around her own neck. The doorknob, which was only half a

person’s height, was an unexpected instrument of death. It seemed that the old lady had lost her balance when

trying to stand up from a small stool, and she hung herself directly on it, never needing her strength again.

At that time, Freya had expressed regret, saying, “If you can control the angle and force correctly, even sitting

down can be a method of self-hanging. Life is only lived once; one must be careful.”

Little did he know that this would become his destiny.

Edward hung the chain around his neck, feeling a slight movement in his Adam’s apple.

He lowered his gaze.

He had once rekindled hope, had grand ambitions, and even silently kept the goal of surpa*sing Radley in his heart

without telling anyone. But now…

Forget it. Jamie will likely recapture Freya to treat my illness. Just as he had said, he would hunt her down even if

she returned to Caltun. I guess… Jamie will only give up when I die.

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His death would benefit everyone.

Moonlight illuminated the room, casting a swaying and faintly flickering shadow on the

floor…