My Alleged Husband-Chapter 894 - 829: The Incomparable Human Heart (Extended - )_10

I admit that as a father, I have never displayed the slightest sense of responsibility I should have borne. Like a blade, I’ve brought you countless emotional wounds, but it was never my intention to treat you this way. I never wanted things to turn out like this. Some events, once they occur, cannot be undone—I understand that, and your sister understands it too. There’s nothing we can do to make it as if they had never happened. I have been doing everything in my power to make amends for my wrongdoings. I’ve been striving with all my might, hoping to bring you happiness, to bring you joy, to bring you contentment. In this family, I’m willing to toil like a beast of burden as long as I can somehow compensate for the resentment buried deep inside you, as long as I can atone for what I did wrong, for the debts I owe you. That means everything to me. But why, even after I’ve given my all, do I still gain nothing in your hearts? Why am I nothing to you? Do I mean nothing in your eyes? I am a living, breathing human being. I have flesh and blood. I, too, hope for my family’s forgiveness—for them to truly regard me as one of their own. Don’t tell me over and over again to my face that we’re a family while treating me like a stranger behind my back. That, to me, is an insult."

"Now you feel humiliated by how we treat you, do you? But all those things you did to us in the first place—weren’t they wrong? Weren’t they hurtful? Why is it that in your eyes, you only ever see yourselves, only ever consider your own interests, and never others’? When you made those choices, didn’t you think about how others would feel, how much pain they might endure? No one, not even Saint, deserves to be hurt repeatedly by you. I understand—we children should not have abandoned you, should not have shut you out of our lives. But have you ever really thought about the things you did? Do you think you still have the right to demand our forgiveness?"

For as long as I live, I swear I will never hand my heart over to anyone ever again. Because sincerity cannot buy sincerity—it never can. I’ve said this countless times, and every word holds true. Even if I give all my heart, what will I get in the end? Family betrayal, friends’ deception, the treachery of close confidants? Again and again, I’ve poured myself out completely only to be left empty-handed. I never get what I deserve. I’ve driven myself to ruin trying to figure it all out. I know my spirit has suffered severe blows. I have no way of accepting everything that has happened, no way of returning to the happy, carefree life I once lived. All I ask is for you to give me some peace, to give me a little time—a moment to think things through and decide what I should do. But what do you do? The moment you’re discharged from the hospital, you rush back to this house. It’s you—step by step, it’s you who dragged things to this point. It’s you who forced me into this state. It’s you who turned me into the person I am now—a person so numb, so callous that I no longer weigh things with sincerity. In your eyes, what am I, really? I’ve given everything, but what am I supposed to get in return? Nothing. Nothing at all. I can’t even exchange it for my parents’ heartfelt love. In my parents’ eyes, there’s someone there, but it’s not me. All they see is profit, all they care about is freedom. Where does that leave me—their son? In your hearts, I’m nothing but an afterthought. You take me only when you feel like it; you cast me off when you don’t. When you’re done with me, you throw me away. But what I truly want has never been this, not ever. None of you have ever considered what my heart yearns for, what kind of outcome I’ve desperately hoped for deep down."

Perhaps this outcome is exactly what you wanted, but for me, it’s not what I wanted—not even close. All I’ve ever wanted is a steady, stable life. But you shattered the peace I should have had. You caused all of this. Everything is because of your appearance that led to the situation we’re in now. You always think that everything you do, every decision you make, is correct. And everything we do, everything we decide, is wrong. Do you think we deserve this? That everything we do is doomed to be mistaken? You’ll never understand—never truly understand—what I’m supposed to do, what path I’m supposed to take, will you?