Free Web NovelChapter 62: Chapter 62 She Burned Their Wedding Photos
Flames of rage danced across Rose’s face. She reached out, snatched the wedding photos—which she had once longed for and finally managed to obtain—from Mike’s hands, and effortlessly grabbed him by the collar.
She raised the display stand she had snatched high above her head, aiming it at his chubby face.
“Rose! What are you doing?!”
Samantha’s panicked, shrill shout rang out from behind her.
Rose didn’t loosen her grip on Mike one bit. The chubby little boy was still wearing a neat bow tie, but as Rose clamped her fingers around it and twisted, the tie tightened instantly.
It choked Mike until his face turned bright red.
But he was still a child and couldn’t break free from Rose’s grip. He could only choke out sobs, his face flushed crimson.
Rose turned her gaze back.
She saw Ryan returning from outside with... Samantha.
The two looked like a newlywed couple returning home together.
Walking side by side, they appeared exceptionally harmonious and well-matched.
Witnessing the tense standoff, Ryan’s gaze grew so deep and intense it felt oppressive. He stared intently at Rose without blinking, yet offered no reproach.
Samantha’s expression changed completely. Seeing Mike being grabbed by the collar, she felt both heartbroken and furious.
“He’s just a child! Even if you have grievances against me, you shouldn’t take them out on a child!”
“A child? I thought he was raised by beasts—unable to understand human speech or act like a human being.”
Rose’s tone was unexpectedly calm.
She had been married to Ryan for seven years. Aside from their marriage certificate, this wedding photo—taken under pressure from Margaret—was the only picture of the two of them together.
It had almost become the sole source of comfort in her humiliating love during those years.
Even if they divorced, even if they were about to become strangers, she no longer cared about that wedding photo she had once treasured.
But she would never allow Samantha—or any of her relatives—to discard it. To trample on it. To burn it.
And today—
Ryan had actually allowed Samantha and her brother into the house!
Samantha’s expression turned completely cold. Worried that Rose might lose her temper and do something to the child, she said, “Rose, your language is too crude. Why are you trying to assert your authority over a child in matters between adults?”
James, however, did not interject.
As for today’s incident, he couldn’t bring himself to openly speak up for that brat.
By the time he arrived, Mike was already there. The boy had had the driver bring him over alone, saying he’d heard there was a full set of video game consoles here and wanted to play.
His sister, after all, had once been the intended daughter-in-law of the Knight family’s second branch and was now the mistress of Ryan, the man who held the reins of power in the Knight family.
Naturally, the security guards didn’t dare offend him.
Who would have thought this chubby little guy would walk in and act as if the place belonged to him?
With laser-like focus, he charged straight toward anything related to Rose, tearing through it as if the house were his own.
He must have been spoiled rotten by the Hill family.
As for Rose...
James had no intention of helping her.
If Rose hadn’t insisted on forcing Ryan to marry her back then, how would she have ended up in this situation?
She had brought it upon herself.
“Let him go first.”
Ryan’s voice remained even as he walked away from Samantha and stopped directly in front of Rose.
Lowering his gaze to meet her cold, red-rimmed eyes, he placed a warm hand over the back of hers, which was clutching Mike’s collar.
“If you want to resolve this or vent your anger, talk to me.”
The warmth of his palm nearly dispelled the chill of the crisp early spring air.
Yet it cast an endless frost over Rose’s heart.
Talk?
Talk about how he would defend the other person?
Seeing Ryan’s gesture, Samantha pressed her lips together tightly and instinctively called out, “Ryan?”
She deeply disliked seeing other women approach Ryan in front of her.
Any physical contact between them disgusted her.
As a woman, Rose had absolutely no sense of boundaries.
Ryan didn’t turn around.
With a deft movement of his fingers, he loosened Rose’s grip.
Mike, now free, shot Rose a glare before running toward Samantha.
Samantha gently stroked Mike’s flushed face, red from lack of oxygen.
“Rose, this is intentional assault! To put it more seriously, it could even be considered attempted murder. I can absolutely press charges against you!”
Rose slowly pulled her hand free from Ryan’s grasp, avoiding his touch as if he were a venomous snake.
“Fine. Go get a medical examination. I’ll be waiting for you to make a scene.”
Samantha couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Was Rose so certain that, as a public figure, Samantha couldn’t afford to make a scene?
Ryan watched Rose’s movements with a stern gaze, saying nothing.
Even without any visible emotion, Rose could tell from his eyes that he was likely reproaching her for being inconsiderate—for not giving his precious Samantha any face.
Samantha soothed Mike, then strode over and stood directly beside Ryan.
She didn’t apologize to Rose. Instead, she simply looked at Ryan.
“I’m sorry. Mike is just too young and doesn’t know any better, but he has a good heart. I think you know that.”
She had no desire to speak with Rose.
It would simply lower her standards.
Only then did Ryan slowly shift his gaze away from Rose’s face.
“Hmm. It’s just a photo.”
Rose felt a faint yet unmistakable pang in her chest.
He turned to look at the iron drum still blazing with fire, the heat of the flames failing to penetrate his indifferent gaze.
“Let it burn.”
It wasn’t until he uttered those casual words—Let it burn—that Rose stared intently at Ryan’s sculpted profile, a sight that felt colder than the night itself.
That indifference made her feel as though countless needles were piercing her skin.
Seven years.
Seven years of marriage, like a seven-year dream.
Even if you were feeding a stray cat or dog, seven years would be enough to foster deep affection.
It turned out that when a man doesn’t love a woman, even seven years, even a lifetime, even pouring out your heart and soul—
To him, it is all a burden.
Something that can never be warmed.
“Ryan already said it doesn’t matter! The photos don’t matter! You don’t matter either!”
Mike finally gloated, pointing at Rose with a look of pure satisfaction.
That remark—
That Rose didn’t matter.
Samantha’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Mike was, of course, telling the truth.
It would be best if Rose could take that to heart.
Mike pretended to grab another photo from the pile on the ground and toss it into the fire.
Samantha didn’t stop him.
Rose moved.
She turned and walked toward the metal drum.
Only then did Samantha warily pull Mike back to her side.
After all, in her view, Rose—unable to have the man she loved—was likely on the verge of losing her mind.
There was no guarantee she wouldn’t harm the child.
Rose paid her no mind.
She stood before the iron drum, her oval face cold and impassive.
Ryan glanced sideways at her retreating figure but said nothing.
James couldn’t help but frown.
Could Rose really be so enraged that she’d lost her mind?
If she were to throw a massive fit in front of Ryan, it would likely end badly.
Before the thought could fully form, Rose suddenly moved.
She bent down, gathered up the remaining photos from the ground, and tossed them into the metal drum without hesitation.
Boom!
Sparks flew, and thick smoke billowed once more.
At the sight, Ryan’s eyes darkened imperceptibly.
James’s expression, which had been one of mere curiosity, suddenly changed.
Unconsciously, he took a few steps forward.
How...
How could she bear to burn her own wedding photos?
Was she really taking her anger this far?
It was as though their marriage had truly reached its end.
Rose stared as the images of herself and Ryan gradually distorted, melted, blackened, turned to ash, and finally vanished.
It was as if she were burning her entire absurd seven-year journey to ashes, erasing it from existence.
She turned around and met Ryan’s deep, emotionless gaze.
“My things—if I choose to throw them away, that’s my decision. It’s not for others to act on their own.”
She was talking about the wedding photos.
And him.
She had thrown it all away.
It was never that someone else had taken him from her.
It was she who had let him go.
