He Asked How to Compensate Me While I Was Dying Chapter 01
After I became pregnant with what I believed was my rapist’s baby, I broke down and tried to end my life.
The moment I stepped onto the roof, an anonymous relationship-forum post appeared on my phone.
[My wife hurt the woman I consider a sister, so I taught her a small lesson. She accidentally landed in the ICU ten times. Now that her punishment is over, how should I make it up to her?]
The comment thread erupted almost instantly.
The original poster, however, replied as if none of it mattered.
[You don’t understand. Her own parents approved of everything I did, which proves she deserved it.]
[She came back waving her status as the Bennetts’ biological daughter and immediately started targeting the adopted daughter they had raised in her place. She even took Mallory’s most expensive tactical watch and made her cry.]
[So I staged a kidnapping and made my wife believe the abductors had assaulted her. After she became pregnant, I forged ten DNA reports identifying one of them as the father. I needed her to believe she was carrying a rapist’s baby, or she would never stop making trouble for Mallory.]
[I only wanted her to understand Mallory’s pain. Once she learned her lesson, she would treat Mallory better. Really, I did it for her own good.]
I stared at the profile picture I knew by heart, and the pain in my chest traveled all the way to my shaking fingertips.
Through my haze, I saw someone else upvote the post.
[The poster’s wife is my biological daughter. Everything my son-in-law did was meant to cure her cruelty and jealousy. If you need someone to attack, attack her. Leave my precious girl and my son-in-law out of it.]
That account used the same picture as the original poster: the German shepherd Mallory Bennett adored.
So every nightmare I had endured had been inflicted by the people I loved, all for the adopted daughter they preferred.
Fine. I would give them the perfect family they wanted.
I closed my eyes and stepped off the roof.
“System, this time I really am going home.”
…
My parents were still venting beneath the post.
[Ever since she came home, our precious Mallory has suffered from depression. We thought the humiliation of an assault and a pregnancy everyone condemned would finally make Arden stop competing with her. Instead, she joined an Armed Forces Entertainment production and tried to use it to make colonel, just so people would compare Mallory to her and call Mallory a useless ornament.]
Grant Whitaker replied immediately.
[Fortunately, I was her commanding officer. I blocked her at every turn, credited her commendation to Mallory, and made sure Mallory received the promotion first. Arden still coughed up blood and staged another trip to the ICU over something that minor. She only wanted to blame Mallory, and poor Mallory had nightmares all night.]
I bit down until I tasted blood.
I had begged for the chance to help produce that show and drunk until my stomach bled before anyone agreed to hear me out.
It had been the one thread of light I seized for myself after clawing my way out of the pit created by that supposed “rapist’s baby.”
One tearful complaint from Mallory, and the people I loved had snuffed it out with their own hands.
Someone commented: [If you hate your wife this much, why did you marry her? Why are you asking how to compensate her? File for divorce. If I were your wife and learned the truth, I’d lose my mind.]
One minute later, Grant posted another reply.
[You’ve got to be kidding. She’s obsessed with me. So what if she learns the truth? I can soothe her after a little punishment. Mallory is different. She has depended on me since we were children, and not being the woman I married has already caused her enough pain. Of course I should treat her better.]
My parents hurried to support him.
[If Grant hadn’t been comatose after his accident, why would we have brought Arden home and given her Mallory’s place in the family-arranged match? We even let her stay at his bedside until he recovered and marry him legally afterward. We gave her everything, yet she remained ungrateful and kept attacking Mallory. Mallory is the one who has truly suffered.]
Every word dripped with righteous indignation on Mallory’s behalf.
They were so worked up that they forgot to hide the names.
Readers in the comments quickly connected the clues.
“A family-arranged match during a coma? In the past five years, the only general at Fort Blackstone who was unconscious after a car wreck was a Whitaker.”
“Oh my God. Then the Mallory in the post is the Bennetts’ adopted daughter. She and Grant grew up together?”
“Is no one else horrified that Major General Whitaker is apparently married?”
That comment closed around my throat like a hand.
When a man did not love you, even acknowledging you in public became too much to ask.
I wanted to laugh, but tears slipped down my face faster than I could stop them.
The screen flashed. Once Grant’s identity had been exposed, the post vanished.
In its place appeared a takedown notice and a statement from the Whitaker family’s attorneys.
[Do not connect this fictional post to real individuals. The Whitaker family will pursue any defamatory statement concerning Ms. Bennett.]
There was no need to ask which Ms. Bennett they meant. That protection belonged to Mallory alone.
In the ten minutes I had spent reading, a crowd had gathered beneath the building.
Grant ignored his security detail and climbed onto the roof.
He had not even caught his breath when he approached me, his face tight with fear and his voice shaking.
“Arden, don’t do anything. This is my fault. All of it. I can’t live without you.”
His panic made him look like a different man from the one who had written those replies moments earlier.
For one confused second, I could not tell which version was real.
After arriving in this world and accepting the mission to win his love, I had built almost every day of my life around him.
Grant had been a distant branch of the powerful Whitaker military family, and my constant care had helped pull him out of his coma.
Because I knew this world’s original plot, I had guided him past every obstacle until he inherited the Whitaker family’s influence and rose to major general at Fort Blackstone.
During the years when I loved him most, he would hold me and promise,
“Arden, life means nothing without you. Nothing but death will ever separate us.”
I believed him.
After the staged “assault,” I locked myself in the bathroom and scrubbed until my skin tore and the bathtub ran red.
After the forged DNA reports convinced me I was carrying a rapist’s baby, I pressed scissors to my stomach and tried to cut the horror out of myself.
When Mallory received my commendation, Grant said I lacked the ability to command respect and should stay home to recover.
I obeyed. For thousands of freezing nights, I waited alone for him to come home.
It was during that darkness that the System first came to me.
[Host, your heart is breaking. I won’t make you finish the mission. I can send you home.]
The System said that even though I had failed, it could still grant my wish:
parents who loved me and a partner who would never betray me.
At the time, I had not seen the rot beneath Grant’s tenderness or my parents’ concern. I told the System,
“But isn’t that the life I already have?”
Now the post had ripped away every lie, and I could no longer pretend.
The System’s voice returned inside my head.
[Host, Grant is here. You’re going to soften again. It’s windy on that roof, so if you aren’t jumping, please go downstairs.]
Of my ten stays in the ICU, I had spent nine begging the System to keep me alive. All I had talked about was Grant and my parents.
I had made them my entire reason to live. What had I ever been to them?
“No, System. This time I really am going home.”
The words escaped as a choked whisper.
Contempt flashed through Grant’s eyes.
I had been in the ICU ten times. When had I ever actually died?
Still, he needed to preserve his image as the devoted husband.
His eyes reddened as he took another step toward me.
“Arden, if you jump, I’ll jump too. Even in death, I’ll stay with you.”
I pretended not to hear. I closed my eyes and opened my arms.
As screams rose behind me, I stepped into empty air.
Grant, I was done with you.
Mom. Dad. I was done with you too.
I gave you back your perfect family with Mallory.