I Forced Him Into Marriage For Six Years, Only To Witness Him Sacrifice His Life For Me Chapter 10

I Forced Him Into Marriage For Six Years, Only To Witness Him Sacrifice His Life For Me Chapter 10

Someone had dug up everything about Catherine- from her history overseas of seducing married 

men, to coming back and inserting herself into 

someone else’s relationship, stealing another. 

woman’s fiancé. 

Chat logs, photos, every single piece laid out 

crystal clear. 

The internet exploded. Her name trended for three 

days straight, and the comments called her 

shameless, disgusting, a homewrecker. 

Catherine fought back at first, posting long essays 

claiming she was being set up. 

But the more she posted, the more dirty affairs 

surfaced. 

Someone found photos of her checking into 

hotels overseas with married men. 

Someone screenshotted the texts full of taunts 

and provocations she’d sent me back then. 

She couldn’t take it. 

She’d always been pampered. First by the men she 

chased abroad, then by Linus when she came 

back. 

She’d never faced this kind of public humiliation. 

Everyone who used to envy her, praise her, now all turned around and spat on her. 

She locked herself in her apartment for a full week. When she finally emerged, she was in a 

daze. 

Someone saw her squatting by the flower beds in her pajamas, muttering over and over, “I’m not the 

other woman. I’m not.” 

A passerby called the cops. 

They took her to the hospital. She was admitted 

for an acute psychotic episode. When her 

symptoms failed to improve, she was transferred 

to an inpatient psychiatric unit. 

Two weeks later, it was upgraded to 

schizophrenia. She was committed to a closed 

ward. 

They said the day she went in, she was holding a pillow and calling it Linus, refusing to let go. 

Linus went to see her once. 

He stood outside her room, watching through the 

glass. She sat on the bed, her hair hacked off in 

jagged chunks. 

She talked to the air for a long time. 

The nurse told him she’d call out “Linus, please 

come back” to the wall every day, but when anyone 

spoke to her, it was like she couldn’t hear them. 

He stood there for ten minutes. Then he turned 

and walked away. 

On the way back, he got a call from the bank. A 

major loan had come due, and the company was already running out of cash. 

He’d seen it coming. Ever since he’d come back 

from Millbrook, he knew the company wouldn’t 

last much longer. 

Withdrawals, cancellations, and employee 

resignations came one after another. 

He didn’t fight it. Didn’t even reach out to anyone 

for help. 

Because somewhere along the way, he’d stopped caring about any of it. 

The day the company went into liquidation, he sat in his office until the very end. 

Outside the window, the sunset in Velmont looked just like it always did when he worked late. 

But back then, he was always in a rush to leave. To go be with Catherine. To escape the girl waiting at home for him. 

Now there was no one waiting. 

He pressed his face into his palms. His shoulders shook slightly. 

“I’m sorry, Linette…” 

“I was so wrong.” 

Six months later, I saw my own name in the Financial Times. 

The interview headline read “A Flower That Grew 

From the Mud.” 

The editor wrote about my journey with restraint 

and grace, narrating how I left a toxic relationship 

behind and started my own business. 

They didn’t name anyone specifically. Just said, 

“After going through a draining, one–sided 

relationship, she chose to start over.” 

The photo showed me standing at the door of my 

studio. 

I wore a simple white blouse. My hair had grown 

out a little, pulled back in a low ponytail. I was smiling brightly. 

The day the newspaper arrived at the studio, my 

assistant handed me the package. 

“Linette, you’re in the paper!” 

I blinked, then took it. 

When I flipped to that page, I stared at it for a long time. Even I felt a little dazed. 

In my past life, I used to lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this was all there was. 

Now I was sitting in my own office, calmly reading about myself in print. 

I folded the paper and put it in my desk drawer. Next to it sat a small pot of ivy. That was a housewarming gift from my neighbor the day I moved. 

It had already grown several new leaves. They were tender green, the kind of green that just makes you feel good. 

That afternoon, I left work early and walked along 

Willow Creek for a long time. 

Spring was coming. The willows on both banks 

had sprouted tender buds, and pale yellow catkins drifted in the breeze. 

The owner of the little café near the bridge smiled 

when she saw me. 

“Linette, you look well today. Out for a walk?” 

“Yeah.” 

I smiled and bought a bag of chamomile, tucking 

it into my pocket. 

When I reached that stone bridge, I paused. 

The stone steps were still the same, worn smooth 

by Millbrook’s damp weather. 

I sat down for a while and pulled out the tea, 

bringing it to my nose. 

It smelled wonderful. The kind of scent that takes 

you back to summer evenings. 

Linus used to carry me on his back in the evening 

breeze. 

“Linette, when you’re old, I’ll still carry you like this, 

okay?” 

“You won’t be able to carry me when you’re old.” 

“Then I’ll push you in a wheelchair.” 

I’d hit his shoulder in mock anger, and we’d both burst out laughing. 

I came back to the present. In the distance, a child was flying a kite. 

It soared high, swaying against the blue sky. 

I watched that kite and suddenly remembered the first time I’d told Linus I wanted to go to Millbrook. 

He’d been busy with work and didn’t look up. 

“Some other time.” 

I’d said okay. 

I never got that “some other time.” 

Now I’d come here myself. 

I’d walked this bridge alone. I’d watched this river 

alone. 

And in this old town, I’d come back to life on my 

own. 

The wind rippled the water, turning the light into 

shimmering gold. 

I peeled the wrapper off my last piece of candy 

and felt the sweetness spread slowly on my 

tongue. 

Linus. In this life, I gave you back your freedom. 

And I gave myself back a brand new life.