Give Me Your Heart Edmund by Bonnie Judson
Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Ring That No Longer Fits

When Dahlia woke up again, she was alone in the ward.

Her phone was dead, and Dahlia didn’t know how long she had slept. She looked outside the window and found it was still dark.

Dahlia got up, put on her shoes, and walked out with her bag. When she walked past Abigail’s ward and noticed the door was ajar, she couldn’t help but halt in her tracks.

The person who was staying in this ward was Abigail, and she was currently accompanied by Dahlia’s nominal husband, Edmund.

Abigail had an innocent face, and her neat and graceful disposition couldn’t be concealed by the blue-and-white striped hospital gown. Her skin had a warm, bronze tone, and her bright, almond-shaped eyes added to her charm. Dahlia reckoned perhaps Edmund was drawn to Abigail’s natural innocence and in contrast, saw herself as a villain with malicious intentions who was trying to split them apart.

Edmund’s kindness toward Abigail sparked a twinge of jealousy in Dahlia. The more she observed the two, the stronger her jealousy became.

People who didn’t know Edmund might assume he was naturally cold, but Dahlia knew he had reserved all his warmth for Abigail and had no intention of sharing it with anyone else.

Of course, he used to be kind to her too, but now there was nothing left.

Her “peeping” eventually caught the attention of the two people inside. The moment Abigail glanced at her, she trembled like a frightened animal and hid behind Edmund.

A fearful expression crept up Abigail’s face. Her eyes were red as if she had seen a heinous villain.

Edmund patted Abigail on the shoulder and looked over coldly. When he saw Dahlia standing by the door, annoyance surged within his heart.

His annoyance transformed into disgust, openly manifested on his face. He scolded, “Why are you sneakily standing there?”

Dahlia stood at the door, gazing at the inseparable pair. For a moment she found the sight quite jarring. She didn’t want to witness them, but she couldn’t look away. The gentle Edmund before her was someone she had never seen before, someone she had been yearning for.

Her eyes got teary as she watched them. A sharp pang of pain struck her heart, leaving her utterly heartbroken.

Edmund shielded Abigail behind him and glared at Dahlia. When he saw her pale, bloodless face, a mixed emotion welled up within him, causing his brows to furrow together.

“Now that you’re awake, go back,” he said.

Dahlia hesitated and asked in a hoarse voice, “Are you coming back tonight?”

Seeing the guarded look in Edmund’s eyes, Dahlia didn’t bother to explain herself to him. She couldn’t comprehend what wicked deeds she had committed over the years to make Edmund treat her with such caution and distrust.

Her heart wasn’t made of stone. Despite hindering him from being with Abigail, Dahlia had, during their four years of marriage, served Edmund like a diligent housekeeper.

Even though she couldn’t attain family harmony and a joyful marriage, she had never asked about him and Abigail throughout the years.

In the past, Edmund exercised self-restraint and visited Abigail discreetly. However, as the McCoy family gradually declined and fell off the rich list, Dahlia was no longer considered a threat to Edmund.

Dahlia hadn’t mentioned anything about his involvement with Abigail, whether discreet or open. But how could she not care? Was that even possible?

Dahlia had lost everything since being with Edmund. She was battling stomach cancer but still had to help Abigail to extend her life. Her own life was fading, yet no one was willing to help her.

Dahlia’s heart suddenly ached as if pricked by thousands of needles. The pain surged through her veins, reaching all her limbs, and even her fingertips trembled with pain.

She didn’t argue with Edmund’s command. After so many years, Dahlia had long grown accustomed to it. From pleasing him, she fell into total submission. At times, it seemed as if she was reaping what she had sown.

The moment she turned around, Dahlia heard Abigail’s voice coming from inside.

“Is Dahlia all right with that much blood transfusion? She looks so pale…” Abigail said.

“Don’t worry. She’s always in good health,” Edmund responded.

‘Look, this is the man I love. Even my love rival can tell that I look unwell, but he can’t,’ Dahlia mused self-deprecatingly.

Edmund was not a careless person. He could always spot work problems at a glance and immediately discern what was wrong with Abigail. However, he showed no patience or attentiveness toward Dahlia, whom he had known for six years.

Dahlia took a deep breath and left the place without looking back. The rain was getting heavier outside.

She walked back slowly with her head down. There was no umbrella in her bag, and she was soon soaked after walking in the rain for a while. Dahlia’s body was sensitive to the cold, and the chill seemed to seep into her bones. At this point, her pale lips were dry and cracked, and her curly eyelashes were also wet.

Dahlia’s head throbbed, and even her stomach ached from the cold. She reached out to clutch her stomach but accidentally touched the ring on her ring finger, causing it to fall off.

Dahlia’s eyes glazed over. The ring she had worn for four years had lost its original luster and looked dull. She remembered that when she signed the marriage contract with Edmund, she casually said, “Since we are married, there should be a ring.”

Hearing that, Edmund bought a ring at a roadside stall for 6 dollars and threw it to her.

He said sarcastically, “Take it. That’s all you are worth.”

At that moment, Dahlia just smiled, her eyes indescribably desolate. The ring was too small, but she still forced it onto her finger. Despite the ring finger turning red and bleeding, she still insisted on wearing it.

Dahlia stubbornly believed that the ring would fit one day, but she never expected that one day the ring would become too big for her finger and slip off.

It was just like her relationship with Edmund.

Dahlia curled up in the heavy rain, her stomach burning and churning. She quickly covered her mouth and retched twice. Her eyes were bloodshot with pain, and tears flowed uncontrollably.

It was still raining. Pedestrians on the street held up their umbrellas one after another. Dahlia squatted on the ground, picked up the ring, and pressed it against her chest. She didn’t stand up until her stomach felt better.

She wandered aimlessly in the rain. In a trance, she bumped into someone. Dahlia came back to her senses and hurriedly bowed her head to apologize. The woman, holding a child’s hand, said softly, “It’s okay.”

The child looked up at Dahlia’s reddened eyes and asked in a low voice, “Are you crying, miss?”

The woman patted the child’s head, gave Dahlia an apologetic look, and took him away.

With their backs to her, Dahlia heard the child ask his mother, “Why is she crying? Is it because she’s scared?”

“Why would she be scared?” the mother responded.

The rain was pouring down, and Dahlia gradually couldn’t hear what the mother and son were saying.

She gently covered her stomach and raised her head to hold back her tears. ‘Scared? How could I not be scared? I was scared when I went to the hospital alone; I was scared when I underwent a gastroscopy; I was scared when I was summoned alone to the diagnosis room by the doctor. When I was handed a terminal illness diagnosis, I was so scared that I could feel my blood run cold, draining all the warmth from my body,’ Dahlia thought in a trance.

However, she was more scared of dying alone without anyone around her.

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