Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 366

"Brett, you bloody bastard. What have I ever done to deserve this? I've given my life for you; what more do you want? Do you need to see me die to be satisfied?" Izabella started hitting and cursing at him in his arms, wishing she could bite this man who had tormented her for half of her life to death.

Feeling the sting on his hand, Brett reflexively loosened his grip on Izabella. He stepped back and stared blankly at the blood on his hand.

Time seemed to slow down. He looked at his hand for a moment, then raised his head. He first looked into Izabella's red eyes, then slowly lowered his gaze to the cat in her arms. Both them were glaring at him as if his hug was an unforgivable offense.

Sometimes words can hurt more than physical pain. Brett felt as if his heart was bleeding. Tears kept streaming down his face, wetting it.

It hurt so much that it was unbearable.

Even when he was rushed to the ER with a lung cancer attack, he hadn't experienced such pain.

Izabella was really ruthless; she didn't have a shred of mercy for him.

Before, she would feel bad for him when he coughed from smoking. But now, even though he was crying out in pain, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, she didn't change her expression at all. He wanted to tell Izabella that he had lung cancer and that he was dying.

"Izabella, it hurts so much." He clutched his chest and fell to his knees. "Izabella, are you really leaving me? Izabella, Izabella, Izabella, Izabella."

He kept repeating her name, his voice choked with sobs, his body convulsing in pain.

Izabella held the cat and looked down at him from above. After a while, she said, "I never wanted you; how can I not want you now?"

Brett couldn't control himself and vomited blood. He covered his mouth, trying to swallow the blood back, but it kept gushing out, wetting his palm and seeping through his fingers, making him feel sticky and uncomfortable.

Perhaps due to the extreme stress, Brett's tears flowed even more.

Brett croaked, "Izabella, I'm sick."

Izabella looked at Brett coldly as he vomited blood. She said coldly, "Sick? How can you be sick? You've always been healthy. I've never seen you sick. Just a bit of blood, some medicine, and you'll be fine, right? Brett?"

Brett listened to the familiar words, his eyes glazing over.

So this was karma. The harsh words he once said to Izabella were now all bouncing back at him. He knew he had no right to ask Izabella to be with him again. But he was dying; his only wish was for Izabella to spend more time with him, to prove that they had truly loved each other once. But even this small wish, Izabella wouldn't help him fulfill.

He wanted to tell Izabella he was dying and that he only had two years left. He was really going to die; there would no longer be a "Brett" bothering her.

Brett sobbed, "Izabella, give me a year. Please save me."

"If you want someone to save you, you should go see a doctor, not me." Izabella's gaze shifted to the window. The wound that had healed three years ago was ripped open again. She remembered her past struggles in despair, hoping someone could save her. Brett's appearance made her mistakenly think he was the one to save her, but she didn't expect his arrival to shatter her last hope.

Izabella pondered over Brett's words. He said he was sick; his chest hurt, and he hoped she could give him a year.

A year.

Izabella didn't understand why Brett was fixated on this year. To her, Brett was a selfish, greedy man who would trap her for life once he got hold of her.

She had tried to escape from him many times in the past, only to end up being chained by him, crippling her legs.

For Brett, a year was far from enough to satisfy his needs.

Maybe he was just playing pathetic to make her let her guard down. If she were foolish enough to pity him and agree to his request, there would definitely be some twists and turns a year later.

The blood Brett spat out didn't seem fake. Izabella petted Nikki's head to soothe it, then took out her phone from her bag and called Liam.

As soon as the call connected, Izabella said, "Liam, your boss is vomiting blood. If he doesn't get to a hospital soon, he might die."

Compared to Brett coldly watching her vomit blood, she was being quite merciful.

Having made herself clear, she hung up without waiting for Liam's response.

Brett, who was lying on the ground, managed to stand up with difficulty. He clutched his chest, leaning forward slightly. His face was pale, and his lips were stained red with blood, making him look even sicker. Brett felt an immense heartache as Izabella finished her call. He wiped the fresh blood from the corner of his mouth, his face full of pain.

"Izabella, are you really that heartless?"

Heartless? Izabella laughed when she heard this. So this was being heartless?

"Brett, do you know what you were to me?" Izabella asked indifferently.

"What?"

"A star."

Brett felt bitter. He always believed that Izabella loved him. Even without Ryker and even without the misunderstanding, Izabella would still love him.

Izabella continued, "I used to think you were a bright star. But then I realized it didn't matter if there was one more star or one less. I blame myself for having a narrow horizon and for mistakenly thinking you were the only one for me. It's hilarious when I think about it now."

Time really can wear away all emotions. No one suddenly stops loving you; it's just that you suddenly realize it.

Brett's breath hitched after hearing Izabella's words. His haggard face no longer held the pride it once did.

The most heartbreaking thing wasn't that she didn't like him anymore, but that he obviously had her once, but because of his harm, she gave up on him.

Brett didn't know how to deal with this relationship. What should he do? Could someone tell him?

Love was really hard to handle.

"I'm going home."

For Izabella, that shabby little apartment was her home, a forty-minute trek away. As for Brett, without Izabella, everywhere felt like aimless wandering. Izabella, cradling her cat, walked away from Brett. The sun shone brightly outside, and she didn't hesitate in her steps.

Brett gazed at Izabella's retreating figure with a gloomy expression on his face.

He was sure that even if he were to collapse and cough up blood right now, she wouldn't look back.

He couldn't help but remember Izabella from six years ago. Back then, Izabella hadn't been diagnosed with stomach cancer. She was always compliant and greeted his irritability with a smile. She always prepared his meals, no matter how busy she was. Knowing his obsession with cleanliness, she never let the maids wash his clothes. Instead, she washed them herself and hung them neatly in the closet. Her health had always been poor, but he never cared or thought about it. He forced her to sleep with him. She was uncomfortable but never refused, tolerating the pain.

He always scolded her for being useless, even though she was so strong.

Izabella was not useless at all, but he realized it too late.

The gentleness she never refused in the past was because she still loved him. Now that she didn't love him anymore, she was no longer timid.

Izabella's figure gradually blurred in his eyes. He stumbled forward, reaching out his hand.

He didn't want to lose her, but fate didn't favor him.

"Izabella, Casey isn't who you think he is. Ryker is dead!"

Izabella paused in her steps but continued walking, her calm heart now in turmoil.

She had prepared herself for the fact that Casey wasn't Ryker, but hearing the "truth" from Brett still hurt.

It turned out that she had mistaken him for someone else at first glance.

Liam had been watching from upstairs until Izabella called him. He then came downstairs.

He fetched some medicine and a glass of water from the first floor.

Brett had just been discharged from the hospital, and his body hadn't recovered; he couldn't bear the slightest discomfort.

He leaned against the door, his fingertips stained with dried blood, his body trembling slightly.

Liam handed Brett the medicine. Brett coughed, "I don't want to take it."

"If you don't, you'll die."

Brett, trembling, took the two pills from Liam's hand and threw them into his mouth.

Liam offered him water, but he pushed it away, chewing and swallowing the pills directly. Having just vomited blood, his throat was sticky and uncomfortable. The pills stuck in his throat, the bitter taste slowly spreading.

Brett grimaced with discomfort, his face twisted in pain. He wondered how Izabella, who hated bitterness, could have taken this medicine for three years.

The medicine was too bitter. Brett couldn't help but retch, almost vomiting the pills back up.

He covered his mouth, tears sliding uncontrollably down his cheeks after the bout of nausea.

He hadn't done anything but take a pill, yet he broke out in a cold sweat. His head felt heavy, and his vision was blurred.

He felt so cold. Besides his body, his heart was the coldest. It was as if his ribs had cracked open, letting the cold air seep in and freeze his organs, causing him pain.

Liam helped Brett to the couch. As soon as he sat down, he leaned heavily against the couch, his large figure curled up and shaking uncontrollably.

Brett was in a daze from the pain. Had Izabella felt the same cold and pain when he handcuffed her to the balcony and made her kneel on shards of glass all night? She had been right.

He had bullied her relentlessly because he knew she loved him, which only pushed her further away.

He once had all of Izabella, but now, even if he were dying, she wouldn't spare him a glance.

Brett didn't know how much longer he could hold on. The doctor said he could live for two or three years in his current condition. Now, though his body was alive, his heart was already dead. He didn't know if he would die or go insane first.

Under normal circumstances, it took 40 minutes to get from Flower Garden to the apartment. If there was traffic jam, it could take an hour. Unfortunately, Izabella hit traffic jam on her way back. The driver was obviously a novice, and his driving made Izabella feel sick.

Izabella felt a little carsick. She held Nikki in one hand and pressed her forehead against the car window with the other.

The driver glanced at the woman in the backseat through the rearview mirror. Maybe he was also feeling awkward about his poor driving skills.

"Hey, where'd you find that cat? Its fur is all gone."

"I didn't find it."

"Did you adopt it from a pet rescue center?"

Izabella didn't respond. She had a headache, and her eyes were closed, making it hard to see her expression.

Seeing that she didn't respond, the driver muttered to himself, "You picked the wrong cat. Look at all its old wounds. This cat has been abused and is sick. It won't live long."

Izabella opened her eyes and asked, "Can you just focus on driving?"

The driver shut up at her harsh tone but couldn't help sneaking another look at the cat, thinking to himself, "That thing is hideous."

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