CHAPTER 21: CHAPTER 21: THE WOUND IS ON ME, SO WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO FORGIVE ON MY BEHALF?

Mrs. Ellison sighed and said, "Your brother said the paparazzi have been following Serena recently, so it’s not safe to bring her home to meet the parents at this point. So, the meeting is postponed to next week."

"I see..."

I felt a bit disappointed, having to delay for another week.

But it doesn’t matter, good things are worth waiting for. Eventually, it’ll let my brother and Timothy Xavier see this woman’s true colors.

Before hanging up, I reminded, "Please make sure to let me know once the time is set!"

Mrs. Ellison chuckled, "You sure love being part of the action, just like when you were young. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely let you know."

...

When I got home, Serena Sawyer was scolding the two maids who took care of Doris.

It was because Timothy’s precious daughter had wet her pants again today, and not just once—three times—using up all three pairs of clean pants and getting laughed at by the other kids.

The maids explained miserably, "Mr. Xavier, Miss Sawyer, we really have been careful. But Miss Doris doesn’t like wearing diapers; she says they make her bottom itch."

Watching the scene, I oddly recalled my time in kindergarten. I seemed to have wet my pants frequently, too, and I was allergic to diapers, so I had to change frequently too.

It wasn’t until the second year that things got a bit better.

Serena Sawyer sternly scolded the maids, "How dare you make excuses! It’s because you didn’t pay attention that Doris wet her pants again and again. If Doris develops any psychological issues because of this, can you bear the responsibility?"

Timothy Xavier rotated the Buddha Beads in his hand and said coldly, "Go settle your pay with Nanny Lowell and don’t come back tomorrow."

In my heart, I marveled; I’d never seen the usually calm and composed Timothy Xavier so muddled.

His daughter was truly being raised like a princess.

I didn’t want to engage with these troublesome people, but I had to pass through the living room to get to my room.

After just a few steps, Serena Sawyer called out, "Miss Ellison, I have a favor to ask you."

She approached me, "I want to plead on behalf of my fans. I know they were overboard yesterday, but to forgive is divine. Let’s just drop the lawsuit."

I sneered and said, "Why should you forgive on my behalf? How about you get your hair yanked and face scratched by them, and then see if you’d be forgiving?"

Looking at Timothy Xavier, I continued, "Besides, it wasn’t me who hired the lawyer yesterday. It was President Xavier who took the initiative to sue them on my behalf. Am I wrong?"

Serena lightly curled her lips and said, "Timothy can be reasoned with. He knows my public status is sensitive, and it’s unwise to offend fans."

"So, I suffer for you, and now you act like a saint?"

I laughed coolly. If I weren’t wary of alerting the enemy, I’d demand to know what kind of relationship she had with my brother right now.

At this moment, Timothy Xavier said flatly, "Serena is an idol celebrity. If we sue the fans this time, who would dare to be her fan in the future? Let’s end this matter here."

With a negligent attitude, he dismissed all the harm and grievances I suffered yesterday as if they were as silent as paper tossed into the sea.

Regardless of the punishment those fans might face, the instigator still sat here, perfectly fine.

What difference does suing or not suing make?

I glanced at his indifferent face, then walked to my room without saying more.

In any case, in a little over half a month, once my mother’s life-saving equipment hits the market, Timothy Xavier will have no hold over me.

Then, I can finally bring up the divorce openly.

For now, enduring them one more day is one day less.

I walked a few steps when I heard Doris’s admiring voice behind me: "Mommy is the kindest fairy! That maid auntie never smiles, like a witch. So scary, right, Daddy?"

Timothy Xavier murmured a gentle "Mm," a complete contrast to his usual coldness toward me.

I pulled the corners of my lips slightly, my chest felt stuffed with cotton, needing a deep breath to ease it a bit.

...

On the weekend, I had a follow-up appointment with the psychologist.

Based on the frequency of my insomnia and a depression measurement chart, the psychologist frowned and asked, "Ms. Ellison, have you been taking the medication I prescribed on time?"

"Yes, I’ve been taking it on time. Why?"

I asked nervously, "Is my condition worsening? You don’t have to hide it from me; I can sense it myself. I feel mentally and physically exhausted every day. Even when I do nothing, I’m tired."

The psychologist said gravely, "There’s something I must say, though I know you won’t like to hear it. Last time, you told me you don’t care about your husband or your marriage anymore. But all your reactions now show you actually do."

I was about to speak when he immediately interrupted, "No need to rush to deny it. After all, it’s a twenty-year relationship and a four-year marriage. Unless someone is emotionally void, they’re bound to have some attachment or reluctance. I understand."

I was speechless.

Even so, the psychologist continued with the treatment as planned.

Every time I spoke about Timothy Xavier and the past, something that was once so beautiful turned into a sharp knife, cutting into my flesh.

After two hours of psychological therapy, I left the clinic.

There were three elevators at the clinic’s entrance. After entering one, another elevator door suddenly opened.

I saw Timothy Xavier and his assistant step out of the elevator.

He always held himself with dignity, never looking sideways when walking, so he didn’t notice me.

I was puzzled and immediately left my elevator, quietly following them.

Timothy Xavier entered another clinic; this place had clinics with varying fees based on the doctor’s level.

He entered the most expensive one.

I was extremely puzzled—why was Timothy Xavier appearing at a psychiatric clinic?

Could it be that the perpetrator in this marriage was also driven to psychological issues?

But I quickly dismissed that thought. Timothy Xavier and Serena Sawyer seemed so happy now, how could there be psychological issues?

Then could it be that after Doris started kindergarten, she developed psychological problems?

Was Timothy here to get her treated? After all, this little girl had been wetting her pants constantly and had trouble with interpersonal relationships since starting kindergarten.

But it was the weekend, and Doris was clearly at home. If it was really for her treatment, he should have brought her along.

Just then, a nurse’s voice startled me.

"Miss, are you looking for someone?"

I quickly came up with an excuse, calmly saying, "I’m the wife of the Mr. Xavier who was just in here. I had no idea my husband had psychological issues. Could you tell me how long he’s been coming here?"

Saying that, I even showed her a photo of me and Timothy Xavier to dispel her suspicion.

The nurse’s attitude turned respectful immediately. "Mr. Xavier has been coming here almost every Saturday afternoon."

Every Saturday?

So, this wasn’t Timothy Xavier’s first visit here?

I continued asking, "How long has he been treated for this? Is it serious?"

The nurse replied, "Actually, I only started working here last year, but ever since I started, Mr. Xavier would come every Saturday afternoon. As for his condition, I don’t know. The doctors are very strict about confidentiality."

It made sense. From my first visit to the psychologist, I’d signed a confidentiality agreement with the doctor.

"Alright, I understand. Thank you," I said as I left, cautioning her, "Please don’t tell my husband I came looking for him. Since it’s his privacy, he clearly doesn’t want anyone to know. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’d be implicated by telling me this."

The nurse was startled by my words and quickly nodded, realizing her mistake.

On the way back, I couldn’t figure it out.

Based on what the nurse said, he’d been coming here since long before Doris’s wetting issues, so it couldn’t be because of that.

So why exactly was Timothy Xavier visiting the psychiatric clinic?