I Deliberately Surrender, Only to Make You Suffer

"Thank you for your generous reward, Sir," I said. Phoebe hurried over, worry flooding her eyes. Completely ignoring the child in her arms, she reached a hand to my mouth. "Spit it out, quickly!" Acid churned in my stomach. Fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit, I forced myself to swallow it down and smiled gratefully at Jose. Phoebe's eyes widened, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She knew better than anyone that I used to suffer from extreme mysophobia—I refused to touch anything that had been touched by someone else. That was why I didn't hesitate to file for divorce when I discovered Phoebe was having an affair. However, she refused to let go. In a short time, she orchestrated a car accident that killed my parents and took over the company. My parents were buried hastily and the very next day, Phoebe brought Jose right into our home. Consumed by hatred, I grabbed a knife to stab that despicable couple. Yet the moment I accidentally cut Jose just a little, Phoebe bribed a doctor to diagnose me as mentally unstable. She had me sent to a mental hospital for torment, forcing me to learn obedience. Meanwhile, she and Jose shamelessly enjoyed the vast fortune and connections my parents had spent their entire lives building. My fingers trembled violently as I took the gasping child from her. "Sshh, shhh. Don't cry, baby." My gentle soothing was effective. The child, exhausted from crying, fell into a deep sleep in my arms. Phoebe looked at me, as if wanting to say something, but she held back. I avoided her gaze and carried the child back to the nursery. A sliver of light seeped through the door crack. Jose scoffed, swirling his wine glass and disdainfully tossed me a bottle of disinfectant. "Eating things out of a garbage can is too filthy. Hans, you must maintain hygiene, or I won't dare to use you." I picked up the disinfectant at my feet and bent to thank him gratefully. "Thank you, Sir." Still, Jose showed no sign of leaving. Instead, his gaze was intensely fixed on me. I understood immediately and nodded, turning to the nanny's room to pour the entire bottle of disinfectant into the bathtub. I stripped off all my clothes and scrubbed myself vigorously with a steel wool pad. My skin instantly bled and the entire bathtub was filled with a gruesome mixture of blood and water. As the disinfectant soaked into my skin, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from letting out a single cry of pain. My entire body felt like it was being stung by countless bees, pricked by a million tiny needles. Just as I became overwhelmed by the pain and was about to pass out, Jose mercifully spoke. "Get dressed after you've washed yourself clean. I'll take you to a nice place." I didn't have time to tend to the bleeding wounds, so I hastily threw on some clothes and followed Jose out. Phoebe stood leaning against the staircase, frowning and her tone was full of sympathy. "Don't pick things out of the trash can next time. As long as you're good, no one will punish you, Hans." Before she married me, Phoebe was just a junior employee at the company. Back then, while she was pursuing me, she learned about my sensitive stomach and spent half a year's salary on a nutrition course. She would show up with fresh Band-Aids on her fingers every day, yet the thoughtful lunch box she delivered to my office never once stopped coming. Even after we were married, the stomach-soothing lunch boxes continued. No matter how late I worked, there was always a wisp of steam in the kitchen. "Hans, if you like it, I'll make you a lovingly prepared lunch box for the rest of my life," she said. The sound of keys jangling snapped me back to the present. Jose stood in the living room, impatience flickering in his eyes. "Hans, it's time to leave." I politely nodded to Phoebe, gesturing for her to move aside. But instead of letting go, her brows furrowed even deeper as she gripped my wrist tightly. "Hans, you weren't like this before." Before? Did she mean after marriage, when I treated her with genuine affection, promoted her to Vice President, handed over all my high-level authority and confidential files to her? Or when I gradually told her all my weaknesses and sore spots?

We once spent a loving night wrapped in each other's warmth, looking forward to having an adorable baby someday. At that time, I always thought I'd be the best father in the world. Alas, those days were now gone forever. Later, Jose walked upstairs in his leather shoes. Before Phoebe could pull me into her arms, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "Phoebe, why don't you drive us there? You've been home these days, you must be bored." Phoebe nodded and I instinctively gave up the front passenger seat. As the scenery outside the window changed, my heart suddenly clenched. This road … wasn't it the way to the cemetery? Before the car even came to a full stop, I yanked the door open and rushed out. The once crowded rows of tombstones were gone, replaced by fields of crops. A worker nearby was watering them with a hose. I stumbled forward, my throat hoarse and aching. "Excuse me, isn't this supposed to be a cemetery? How did it change like this? Where did the people buried here go?" The man frowned in confusion, then his brow relaxed as he pointed to a small hill not far away. "This used to be a cemetery, but the Watsons surveyed the land and found the geological conditions were good, so they used it to grow mushrooms." A girl weeding nearby looked up, her eyes full of envy. "Yeah, I heard it's because Mrs. Watson's lover is in poor health, so she spent a fortune to buy this land for him." In the distance, Phoebe guiltily looked away. Jose kindly reminded me, "Don't worry. I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find your parents' ashes, so I specifically had them placed at the top of the hill." My mind went completely blank and my legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. I ran towards the hill without looking back, but then it started to rain heavily out of nowhere. The raindrops stung my skin and I collapsed to my knees in the mud, exhausted. The entire mountainside was buried under shattered gravestones, the names worn down and impossible to read. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the faint letters Garrison. I dropped to my knees and frantically clawed at the sharp, broken stones. Excruciating pain shot through my fingers as every wound on my body burst open, followed by a bone-deep agony spread within me. I cried until my voice was hoarse and my vision blurred. "I'm sorry … I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. It's all my fault. I never knew people's true nature." The rain intensified and a thick fog began to rise in the mountains. Soon, Phoebe's worried voice drifted from behind me. "Hans, where are you?" Unfortunately, Jose found me first. His hidden malice surfaced clearly in his eyes. That man's sharp fingernails dug into my wound. Then, he viciously gripped my neck and shook me violently. "Hans, why on earth did you come back? If you just died, Phoebe would only have eyes and heart for me." I couldn't breathe and I was dragged to the edge of the slope like a dead dog. In my blurry vision, I saw Phoebe getting closer. At the same time, Jose whispered provocatively in my ear. "Hans, guess who she'll choose this time?" Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around me and we tumbled down the slope. He held me down tightly, flipping over me upon impact to use me as a human cushion. Excruciating pain exploded from my shoulder blade. I managed to look down and saw a branch as thick as my wrist piercing straight through my shoulder. The taste of blood immediately filled my mouth. In my hazy consciousness, I saw Phoebe tenderly pulling Jose into her arms. She gently wiped the dust off him like a child. Just like before, when the earthquake struck, she still chose Jose without hesitation. On the other side, I was left forgotten in the rubble. My legs were now pinned under a massive stone and I was nearly losing my limbs and becoming crippled. Tears mixed with rain streamed down my face. My voice was broken and raspy. "It hurts … so much … " Finally, Phoebe's gaze fell upon me. Just as she took a step forward, Jose fainted weakly in her arms, clutching her little finger and grimacing in distress.

"Phoebe, my heart hurts so much … " That fragile expression stabbed Phoebe's heart like a dagger. She immediately averted her gaze, frantically helping Jose to his feet. "Hans, hold on a moment. I'll call an ambulance," she said. That woman's back was thin, her legs trembling wildly as she carried the heavy load. Even so, she never considered abandoning Jose. I clenched the fragments of the tombstone in my palm tightly. As my consciousness faded, I seemed to see my mom and dad smiling at me with understanding. "Hans, Mom and Dad don't blame you." But I couldn't forgive myself. When I woke up again, I saw a clean white ceiling. Phoebe was sitting by the hospital bed, her face utterly pale, with large dark circles under her eyes. The moment she saw me open my eyes, she happily squeezed my hand. "Hans, does your body still hurt?" I painfully removed the needle from the back of my hand, forcing myself to sit up and kneeling at Phoebe's feet. "I'm sorry, Madam, I didn't take good care of myself. I can go home now. Mr. Levine and the baby need me." Phoebe tenderly stroked my reopened, bleeding wound, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. When she reached out in despair, I instinctively covered my head. "Hans, how did you become like this?" she sobbed. I lowered my eyes and remained silent. An eerie silence fell over the hospital room until Phoebe's frantic phone ringing finally broke the tension. Jose's anxious shouts came through the speakerphone, accompanied by the piercing cries of a baby. "Phoebe, the baby keeps crying. I haven't slept well for days. Can you please get Hans back? I'm so annoyed!" Before Phoebe could answer, I was already removing the hospital gown. The scars covering my body were exposed to her view and her eyes reddened as if stung by something. The phone was abruptly hung up. Phoebe's voice was terribly hoarse as she spoke. "Hans, where did these injuries come from?" I quietly put on my regular clothes and signaled for her to handle my discharge. "Madam, my duty is to take care of Mr. Levine and the baby. Please take me home." Her shoulders shook violently. Losing control, she cupped my face and growled in a low voice, "Hans, what exactly have they done to you?" I returned her question with a polite smile. "Madam, they were simply following your instructions, teaching me how to serve Mr. Levine and the baby properly." I watched as all the color drained from Phoebe's face, her lips trembling wildly. "But ... I only wanted you to be a little more obedient. I didn't … " The phone rang again and I urged Phoebe to go home. At the same time, a doctor outside the door secretly gave me a thumb-up. Back at the villa, Jose snapped irritably at Phoebe. I took the crying baby from that man and gently patted his tiny back. He seemed to recognize my scent and gradually calmed down. Jose instantly sensed something was wrong and gestured for me to return to the nursery. Without his permission, I couldn't leave that cramped room. That night, suppressed, heavy breathing came from next door. "Phoebe, do you miss me? My body misses you so much … I want you so badly." Phoebe seemed to be deliberately suppressing her ragged breaths, not wanting anyone to hear. Yet Jose panted rapidly, as if he wanted the whole world to know he was making love to her. I quietly pushed open the window, letting the wind blow away the remaining sleeping pill powder. At that very moment, my phone suddenly lit up. A new message popped up in the notification bar. [The ladder is ready. Come down quickly with the child.] I scooped up the sleeping child into my arms, then pried out the USB drive hidden beneath the floorboards under the bed. In the thick darkness of night, I climbed into the passenger seat of that person's car and we sped straight to the airport.