My Alleged Husband-Chapter 893 - 829: The Incomparable Human Heart (Extended - )_9
Perhaps I’m simply not suited to survive in this family. Every time I live here, I end up bringing pain and harm to everyone in the household. I’ve never done a single good thing, and who even knows the number of wrongs I’ve committed? All the suffering—I alone, deep in my heart, understand the magnitude of mistakes I’ve made and the outcomes I’ve received time and again. But what’s the use of regret? Others won’t truly forgive me. Even if they say they do, deep down, they no longer intend to let it go—they’re merely coping, pretending to manage me, dealing with me over and over again.
Never give away trust so quietly and completely, because when you place all your trust in someone, what you may end up receiving in return could only be hurt. The truth is, they’re not wholeheartedly waiting for your sincerity. To them, it’s just a simple, trivial matter—someone who doesn’t truly want to be together with you or offer you their best comfort. All they care about is how to navigate you, how to turn everything into the shape of the thing their heart desires. Everything they do is just a means to an end, an unscrupulous cost paid for achieving their own goals.
"My child, I know as a father, no matter what I say now, you won’t believe a single word. In your heart, I’m far from being a qualified father. The harm I’ve caused you over the years is not something you could ever forget—I understand that. But regardless, there are some things you shouldn’t pin entirely on us as if they’re all our fault. Do you really think we wholeheartedly wanted to leave you behind? If that were truly the case, we wouldn’t have come back to this house. If our intention was genuinely to avoid living with all of you, we would rather spend our lives wandering aimlessly without a home, rather than return here and endure this hostility. Yet when you speak to us, your tone is like you’re addressing criminals. Time and again, we’ve tolerated it—why? For what reason? It’s all in hopes that every member of this family might believe in the sincerity of us coming home. We’re not posturing, nor are we pretending. All we want is honest, heartfelt acceptance. If you could truly accept me wholeheartedly, I wouldn’t even know how to express my joy. But you can’t bring yourself to do that. Because you’re my son, I know you too well. Your temperament is too similar to mine—there are things, once they happen, that you could never easily forgive. But if you do choose to forgive, it signifies there’s something else behind it, a calculation of sorts. I trust that deep in your heart, you think this way too. You never truly believed we could smoothly return to this house, did you? You don’t need to say it; I already understand. The hurt I’ve caused you over all these years is immeasurable, but I never imagined our relationship would deteriorate to this point. Could you truly try to comprehend the deep pain in your father’s heart? I never wanted things to come to this; all I’ve ever wanted was for every single person in this family to forgive me, to live peacefully and harmoniously with me, and to genuinely accept my return. Not for appearances, not for outward appearances."
If, one day, you spent decades exiled far from home, and after painstaking effort, you returned to find that the family you came back to only copes with your presence—how much would that hurt? You’ve never considered it; you can’t imagine that feeling. But I can—because I’ve already been through it once before. I’ve ended up with nothing in the end. Isn’t that the best punishment already? Everything I yearned for, I’ve never been able to attain, while the things I wanted no part of have all been forced upon me—do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered, how much pain I’ve endured? Again and again, I’ve woken from nightmares. My goal is nothing else but to protect this family, to spare each person here from harm. All I want is to grasp joy for myself and bring each member of this family happiness. Why must it be so difficult?
