Your Obsession Destroyed You

1 At the company’s annual gala, my wife, the CEO, suddenly called. She asked me what I was doing. “Washing your underwear, of course,” I answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What’s up? I have to put these in the dryer when I’m done, and then I need to give the baby his bath.” A wave of laughter and applause erupted from her end of the line. The call ended abruptly. She didn’t come home until late, reeking of a nauseating mix of alcohol and perfume. I got up to make her some soup to sober her up. She grabbed my hand, her eyes bloodshot. “Robert, where’s your spine? Your pride?” I just smiled faintly. The proud Robert was dead. In this new life, all I wanted was for the people I loved to live. … Lisa turned me to face her, hysterical. “Say something!” she shrieked. “Tell me, where did you put my Robert? Give him back to me!” I smiled. “People change, don’t they?” Besides, she was the one who changed first. The anger and frustration in her eyes slowly faded into a weary sadness. “Can we just stop torturing each other?” My own eyes were calm. “What’s so bad about the way things are now?” Her shoulders slumped, and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You should go back to bed.” Back in my room, I heard the sound of shattering glass. A little while later, she came in and sat on the edge of the bed. After a long silence, she spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” “I’ve really broken it off with Kevin. And there won’t be any other men.” “What will it take for you to forgive me?” I didn’t want to fight with her. I stayed silent, gently patting our restless baby. Sleep, my love. Daddy will never leave you again. In my past life, when Lisa was two months pregnant, I discovered she was cheating on me. To be more precise, from the moment she started pursuing me, through our courtship, our marriage, and her pregnancy—a total of seven years—she had been sleeping with her childhood friend, Kevin. I wanted a divorce. She refused, no matter what I said. She told me over and over that she loved me, that the baby was mine. She kept me locked in the house in the name of love. When I tried to kill myself, she tied me to the bed. When I went on a hunger strike, she threatened me with my father’s safety. This went on until she gave birth. The moment our baby’s soft little hand closed around my finger, I felt like I had come back to life. He was my son. I watched him constantly, smiling when he smiled. Lisa was happy too. She had successfully used our son to keep me. But three months later, I had a complete mental breakdown and nearly threw our son from the third-floor balcony. Lisa snatched him from me and slapped me, her hands trembling with fear. “You’re insane!” She had me committed to a psychiatric hospital for a year. When she came to pick me up, she asked if I missed our son. Hearing his little voice call out “Daddy,” my heart clenched. I nodded. When we got home, Kevin was there, holding our son. “Lisa! I was just passing by and wanted to see the baby. I think he’s having an allergic reaction to something he ate.” Our son was struggling to breathe, his face already turning purple. At the hospital, the doctor said we were too late. I was plunged back into a deeper hell. “Murderer!” I lunged at Kevin, but Lisa threw herself in front of him. “Robert, calm down. I’m heartbroken too, but this was an accident. Kevin would never hurt our son on purpose.” She trusted him. “It wasn’t on purpose,” so he was absolved of all blame. My suspicions were just the ravings of a madman. After all, I had almost become my son’s killer once. I had no right to condemn anyone else. I found the lecture hall where Kevin taught and scrawled on the blackboard in red paint—KEVIN, A LIFE FOR A LIFE! I emptied the entire can of paint on him. Lisa dragged me to the hospital, her face grim. “Your father is having brain surgery in three days. Do you want him to die too?”

2 My father had a malignant brain tumor. They hadn’t dared to tell me. I stopped causing trouble. But my father died on the operating table. “Robert…” Lisa shook me awake, frowning as she wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. It took me a moment to come to. I stared at the date on my phone, slowly pulling myself out of the nightmare. I had been back for a year. On this day, Lisa had excitedly told me that our son had kicked for the first time. I placed my hand on her stomach. “Hey, baby, it’s Daddy. Give a little kick. Tell Mommy we both love her very much.” “Robert, can you forgive me? Just this once?” “Let it go,” I said. Love, forgiveness… it was all meaningless. All I wanted was for my son and my father to be safe and healthy. The next day, Lisa went with me to visit my dad. We took him for a full check-up. The tumor was still small, the surgical risk much lower. The operation was a success, and his recovery was smooth. A huge weight was lifted from my heart. It was a greater relief, a more profound joy, than my own second chance at life. I started cooking for Lisa every day, going on walks with her, getting some sun. We went shopping for baby clothes and decorated the nursery. I could even laugh and joke with her. I didn’t refuse her hugs or goodnight kisses. Lisa was happy, but there was always a faint shadow of worry in her eyes. Until our wedding anniversary. She wanted to be intimate. I pushed her away. “If you have needs, you can go to Kevin, or someone else,” I said calmly. “I don’t mind. Just be careful not to hurt the baby.” She looked as if she’d been doused with cold water, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you say?” “Robert, you still hate me, don’t you? You haven’t really forgiven me.” I shook my head and sat up, straightening my clothes. “I’ve just figured things out. You were right. Sex and love can be separate. I believe that you love me. I was just being too sensitive before.” I had accepted her explanation, but now she was the one who was angry. “Do you really think that?” I looked her in the eye and nodded. She slammed the door and didn’t come back all night. The next morning, she returned with a bouquet of flowers and an apology. “I’m sorry, honey. I was too emotional last night. It’s okay. We can take it slow. As long as you’re willing to give me a chance, I’d be happy with a platonic relationship for the rest of our lives.” She showed me her chat history. “I went to see Jane. She has security cameras. I can ask her to send you the footage if you want.” I smiled and nodded. “I believe you. You don’t have to explain.” The look in her eyes was more disappointed than if I had accused her. “Okay. Let’s have breakfast together.” “I didn’t sleep well last night. Will you take a nap with me later?” And so the days passed. Until one night, she found me in the walk-in closet, ironing a shirt. She flew into a rage, cutting the shirt to pieces. “What do you want from me?” she demanded, her eyes red. That’s when I realized the shirt wasn’t my size. Kevin must have left it here, and the housekeeper had probably put it with my things. “I’m begging you, Robert. Stop punishing me like this. This act you’re putting on—the perfect, long-suffering husband—does it make you happy?” I tried to explain that I just couldn’t sleep and was looking for something to do. “Fine. Fine…” She was so angry she was speechless. She tore off her own pajamas and threw them at me. “Then keep ironing! Since you have so much free time, you can do all the housework from now on. And all the laundry has to be done by hand.” I did as she said. And yes, there was a small part of me that took pleasure in seeing her lose control. In our worst fights, she would say that a social climber like me should be grateful for marrying her and changing my station in life. That a person can’t have everything. But when it came to herself, she conveniently forgot her own logic. She wanted my forgiveness, my understanding, and my unconditional love, as if nothing had ever happened.

3 Today, our son had to get his vaccinations. He cried pitifully. I comforted him, yawning twice. Lisa, full of guilt, took the baby from me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me yesterday…” I quickly took the blame. “I didn’t realize you were in the middle of a game. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” She was about to say something when her phone rang. After a moment’s hesitation, she answered it in front of me, a show of transparency. It was Kevin. He’d been in a car accident. In my past life, she had been on a business trip for a week around this time. I took our son from her. “You should go. You’re the only family he has in this country. I was just thinking of going to see my dad anyway.” Her expression was a mixture of relief and disappointment. She hesitated, then turned and left. The driver hurried in. “Sir, shall we go?” Just then, my phone rang. My heart started to race. “Hello, this is the emergency room at Capital University Hospital. Are you a relative of Mr. Robert Thorne Sr.?” “Yes,” I answered, my voice trembling. My stomach twisted into a knot. When I got to the hospital, I saw Lisa. Kevin was sitting on a bench nearby. “Robert, don’t panic…” It turned out Kevin was the one who had caused the accident. The person he had hit was my father. The world around me seemed to blur. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. “Robert, look at me…” My dazed state frightened Lisa. She grabbed my arms. “Don’t worry. Dad will be fine. The roads are slippery because of the snow. Kevin didn’t mean to do it. He’s very shaken up.” My eyes burned, and a metallic taste rose in my throat. “Didn’t mean to…” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. There it was again. Kevin walked over, his face full of apology. “Robert, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even recognize your dad. I was making a right turn, and he suddenly ran out to pick up his mask. I couldn’t brake in time.” Looking at him, I saw my son’s pained face, and I couldn’t breathe. The hatred boiling inside me was uncontrollable. I slapped him across the face. Lisa gave me a reproachful look, her eyes full of concern for Kevin. “I’ll have the driver take you home. I’ll deal with the police. Don’t blame him. He’s just as upset.” Kevin smiled magnanimously. “I know. I’m not mad. You don’t have to worry about me. Just stay with him.” I stumbled back, leaning against the wall for support, taking deep breaths. I couldn’t fall apart. My dad was still in surgery. “Family of Robert Thorne Sr…” Hearing the nurse call his name, my heart leaped into my throat. “I’m very sorry. The patient died from a cerebral hemorrhage. Time of death…” My vision went black, and I couldn’t stand. I doubled over, retching. I heard my phone ringing, but I couldn’t get my hand into my pocket. Lisa answered it for me. Her face went white. The nanny had been in a car accident on the way home with our son. I scrambled to my feet and ran, but my legs gave out from under me. The world went dark, and I passed out. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I had only one thought. If my dad hadn’t had the surgery, would he have survived the accident, just like in my past life? I was a murderer too. If anything happened to my son, my guilt would be unforgivable.

4 My son lay in the ICU, his tiny body hooked up to a tangle of tubes. Cold tears streamed down my face. I clenched my jaw, making a silent vow. If my son died, this time I would take them all down with me. Lisa held my hand, offering hollow comfort. “Honey, the baby will be fine.” I squeezed her hand, staring at her. “Lisa, I want Kevin in jail!” She guiltily averted her gaze. “Let’s go back to your room first. You need to finish your IV. We can talk about this later.” My heart went cold. I closed my eyes. They had known each other since birth. They were closer than family. They told each other everything. They were intimate friends in every sense of the word. What was our flimsy love compared to that? What was I, her convenient husband? And what was my father, a man with no blood ties to him? The sedative kicked in, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, Kevin was sitting on the sofa, casually peeling an orange. “Robert…” he said, standing up and walking over to my bed. “I’m really sorry. I never thought it would come to this.” His apology was as perfunctory as if he’d made a mistake on a work document and had to appease his boss. The moment he heard the doorknob turn, he dropped to his knees. “A life for a life. I will atone for my sin.” Lisa rushed in and helped him up. “He had surgery on his knee,” she said to me, her tone accusatory. “Lisa, I’m a man. I take responsibility for my actions. I made a mistake, and I should be punished. Don’t break Robert’s heart anymore.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. Lisa squeezed his arm, a silent gesture of reassurance. “You’ve already apologized. It’s okay. You can go home now.” We were alone. “I just went to see the baby.” “Robert, Dad is gone. But Kevin…” “Lisa, I’m pressing charges.” Her eyes instantly turned cold. “Robert, you can’t.” It was a statement of fact, and a thinly veiled threat. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I let out a bitter laugh. “A divorce, then? Can I get a divorce?” She frowned. The word had become a taboo in our endless arguments. “Those are two different things.” I laughed harder, but tears streamed down my face. I felt suffocated, terrified, helpless. “Lisa, let’s get a divorce. I get our son, and you give me twenty million. Unless you lock me up for the rest of my life and cut off my arms and legs, I will kill you both.” Her eyes widened in shock, but she only sighed, her tone placating. “You’re too emotional right now. When you and the baby are both out of the hospital and you’ve calmed down, we can discuss whatever you want.” I took a deep breath. “Come closer. Close your eyes.” She was confused, but she did as I said. I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and, with all the strength I could muster, plunged it into her eye. She staggered back, clutching her eye, her face contorted in agony, her lips white. Her other eye was wide with disbelief, anger, and hurt. “You really hate me that much?” I looked at her calmly. “Do you really love me that much? You’re the one who imprisoned me with your so-called love, who made me lose my family, who pushed me to this point.” The next second, I broke down, shaking, convulsing, vomiting. A flicker of pity and pain seemed to cross her face. She agreed. Dealing with my father’s funeral, the divorce, moving, my medication, waiting for our son to be discharged… The next two months were an agony of suspense, terrified she would go back on her word. Finally, the day came when I could take my son home. I made sure to dress neatly. But when I got to the hospital, the nurse looked at me in surprise. “Mrs. Astley already picked up the baby.” My blood ran cold. It felt like my throat was closing up. I turned and ran, only to collide with a woman. “Robert, don’t be afraid. I’ll help you.”