My Dear Deadly Husband

Chapter 37

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It was that one scene in her head that she kept replaying. The events of yesterday stuck in her mind.

She blatantly told Keenan to fuck off, but she also told him that she doesn't care about their son anymore.

Did that make her a bad person?

Sighing, she lifted her foot from the pedal and cut the thread from the fabric.

"Why couldn't I just have stayed with amnesia?" she muttered frustratingly to herself. "Everything would have been easier that way."

She continued to grumble while sewing a straight line down the  fabric.

"Ryan seemed like he wanted me to find out too," she mumbled. "Why'd he let them back into my life if he also didn't want me to find out? "

'It's not his fault,' her subconscious scolded.

"I know it's his fault," she sighed, lifting her foot from the pedal once more.

While using a pin to secure two pieces together, she ended up poking her thumb, drawing blood in the process.

"Ouch," she flinched.

She stared at the little droplet of blood on her finger and frowned before quickly wiping it on her skirt and getting back to sewing.

What was she thinking about again?

Oh, right. Her fucked up husband and her begotten son.

If only she wasn't so messed up in the head. Maybe she could have learned to love Keenan and his many flaws. But that was unrealistic and a lie.

Though, she had always wondered that if she had a choice, would she have tried to love him?

Scoffing to herself, she rolled her eyes at her wild imagination. The answer would definitely be 'No' anyways.

No matter if she was sucked into an alternate universe where he was normal, not even if he got help and was turned into a decent human being—No, she wouldn't go back to try to learn to love him. She just wouldn't be able to.

Any sign, any trace of him made her feel insecure and inferior. She wouldn't even be able to look at a person who looked remotely similar to him.

'What about Finn?' her inner thoughts asked.

What about him?

That, because Finn was her son, she would have to love him unconditionally?

She scoffed. Finnigan was born because of Keenan's obsession— not out of love.

This wasn't about suddenly hating Finnigan either. It was just that she wouldn't be able to see him in the same light that she used to.

She would always see him as the child born out of hate. And if by chance she met a new person, fell in love and had a child with them, then it was going to be hard for her to accept that she already has a child.

But speaking of her son.

As she cut the last bit of loose thread from the newly finished creation, she held it up and gazed at it with a glare.

It was a bit wonky and lopsided. Her sewing wasn't straight. One of the sleeves looked a bit longer than the other.

It was the best she could do, but that wasn't why she was annoyed.

"Great," she clicked her tongue annoyed while laying out her finished jumper.

It was tiny. It obviously wasn't for her size. What it looked like was something that matched the size of a child. A child whose size was similar to that of Finnigan.