Chapter 61: Failed Revenge

I was only half a step away from him, it just took the time to raise arising the knife to get my revenge. But my hands holding the knife, became weak. But at the last, crucial moment, I realized that I couldn't bear to kill him, nor could I hate him.

Because no woman was willing to witness her beloved man dying, and she would avoid it happening under any circumstances, even risking her life. Probably that's how my mom felt.

I looked up the starry sky.

My heart said to my family in heaven: "Forgive me!" I tried, but I couldn't kill him. I knew it was a unique chance which I missed, but I thought there would be another one. I was still willing to give up on it. Even if he found out and got his revenge by the cruelest means, I would never regret it. It was because I loved him. I'd rather stab the knife in my chest than hurt him a little.

Just as I was about to put down my aching arms and lay beside him, I heard his deadly call," Desiree?" It was a horrible, solemn night. As I staggered back in shock, I lost my grip on the knife and it dropped from my trembling fingers. A sharp, crashing sound could be heard as the knife struck against the ground in the quiet night.

I was dumbstruck, standing still and waiting for him to open his eyes, sit up and look at me. I wanted to explain, but what I said was a lie. "Did you already know what I was planning?" I asked nervously.

The warm and romantic orange light became more and paler, and he squeezed a hopeless smile. "I'd rather not know, and I'd rather believe that you waited for me to turn my back every day because you were worried about me and not than waiting to see if I was dead; I'd rather believe that every cup of coffee you brought late at night when I was tired was out of concern rather than a chance to poison me," Jonathan replied.

He stared at the sharp, shining knife, saying in a trembling voice, "Desiree, when I rushed towards that speeding car, all my thoughts were to protect you from any harm. While you intend to kill me, I can't imagine it."

"I, I don't---" I couldn't speak. I explained it eventually and in response, he threw a sarcastic smile at me.

"Is it? Would you rather die than sleep with me!" his smile scared me. He continued, "Then why were you willing to do it on your eighteenth birthday? To kill me by tying me to bed with an ice pick?" I was speechless!

During that period, I had thought about this method at midnight, but I knew I would not succeed. He would never believe whatever I said now.

Although there was no hope, I still couldn't help asking, "If I know I am wrong now, can you give me another chance?"

"I wanted to restart with you, so I have given you chances, hoping you could prove that it was just my misunderstanding. But now what do you give me in return? A knife in a bag?" he said.

His voice was calm, but I could feel the surging emotions in his heart, and I even imagined a scene in my brain: He helps me pick up the bag with a doting smile when wiping the water stain on it. After he opened it, he saw the knife, and his face dropped.

"Why didn't he go upstairs to drag me out of the duvet and beat me to death?" I wondered. Instead, he chose to prepare my favorite breakfast and wait for me to come down patiently while he was drinking coffee?

"Why did he ask me when he knew the answer?" I thought. He just wanted to hear me tell the truth. No matter how much I cheated him, he would give me a chance if I told him the truth.

He made a promise to me and tried his best to keep it. But I reacted with a sharp knife hanging over his heart! Then I thought for a moment, "Maybe I should grab his arms and shake it violently, explaining to him eagerly, and telling him again and again that I love him."

I'd love to, but what for? I could seize his arms, but I could never obtain his withered love. At that time whatever I said was meaningless, even if I told him a thousand times that I love him and I didn't want to kill him! I wouldn't believe it!

He couldn't bear cheating, so he could never forgive me again. The moment I gave up killing him, I guessed how things would end. But I didn't regret it at all!

I just felt sorry for him. I hurt him deeply, though my knife didn't even touch his body, it left an unhealed wound in his heart!