Chapter 813: Chapter 813 Pain_1
Caitlin Carter’s character was somewhat similar to Atra Blanc, an epitome of the well-bred lady, gentle in nature. Even if she felt discontent, she would keep it to herself, always subconsciously considering others.
Unsure how to address Purple Summers and worried that referring to Christopher Simonson as Purple’s “Dad” might make her upset, she hesitated.
But to simply call him by his name felt strangely off-putting.
Just as Caitlin was feeling awkward, Purple turned her head, her expression indifferent, and said, “Okay, let’s go and see.”
Thinking back, was the Simonson family’s visit exactly what Alexander Summers had hoped for? If she weren’t supposed to go to Kingsley, she would probably have been tricked by him into going somewhere else, right?
In fact, he didn’t need to deceive her. If he had clearly explained the pros and cons and that staying might become an obstacle, she would have walked away without looking back, definitely not lingering and clinging to him, reluctant to let go.
…Yes, she would have left decisively and conclusively.
That was what Purple thought to herself.
She and Caitlin went to the sterile chamber.
Christopher Simonson’s recovery was going well. Seen through the transparent glass, he was half-reclining on the hospital bed, surrounded by various monitoring devices. Tubes pierced his skin where veins ran, making his complexion seem paler.
Despite his haggard appearance, his eyes shone brightly, with a hint of vitality.
Purple had only seen him on television; seeing him in person now created a sense of estrangement. She couldn’t feel the warmth of family love or the connection of shared blood.
All she could do was look at him indifferently, even the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth seemed forced.
Christopher Simonson, on the other hand, was far more nervous and agitated than she was.
He had never imagined he would have children and hadn’t experienced what it felt like to be a parent. Furthermore, thinking that Purple was the child Meredith Richards had for him, he felt both guilty and ashamed, at a loss on how to act.
Equipped with a communication device inside the sterile chamber, Christopher Simonson struggled to speak to Purple. He opened his mouth but hesitated as if there were many things he wanted to say, yet he didn’t know what to say.
After much hesitation, Christopher Simonson asked Purple from within, “Does… bone marrow extraction hurt?”
Purple’s tears suddenly fell, silently streaming down her cheeks.
Caitlin was taken aback.
Christopher Simonson was alarmed and asked, “Does it hurt a lot? Does it still hurt now?”
Purple covered her lips as if the pain was unbearable, slowly squatting down as tears gushed forth, flowing unrestrained. She forcefully covered her lips to keep herself from crying out, her wet hands a testament to her tears.
It had nothing to do with Christopher Simonson.
She was just recalling the night before the surgery when Alexander called and asked her: does bone marrow extraction hurt a lot?
That night, his life was hanging by a thread, yet he was still concerned about her surgery the following day.
Purple wanted to answer him now: It hurts! Even with anesthesia, it still hurts terribly! The pain is soul-crushing, as if every bone in her body was cracking inch by inch! She was nearly being tormented to death by this agony! Why hasn’t he come back yet?!
Knowing she would be in pain, she would cry, why play this game of life and death uncertainty?!
Why deceive her along with everyone else?!!
Purple, up until now, only chose to believe that Alexander had played a trick, setting up a deceptive escape.
She couldn’t accept the accidental yacht explosion.
She couldn’t accept Alexander’s death!
Purple cried under the glass window.
Limited by his field of view, Christopher Simonson could only see Caitlin’s anxious and panicky expression, which deepened his sense of guilt.
Whether it was his youthful recklessness or Meredith’s defiant departure, both were acts of impulsivity from their youth. They loved passionately, but what about Purple? What had she done wrong?
Children are, after all, innocent.
Unwittingly clenching his fist, Christopher Simonson asked her in a hoarse voice, “Purple, would you be willing… to let me, be your dad?”