Chapter 271
When Ruth awoke, she clutched her chest, gasping as if the past fourteen years had collapsed into a single, suffocating moment. Jameson’s betrayal and Madeline’s treachery were as fresh as yesterday’s wound.
But nothing compared to the agony of remembering how Ruth had trusted Jameson to take Shermaine out that day, only to learn he had let Shermaine be abducted because of his bastard son. Before Ruth could retaliate, disaster struck, trapping her in amnesia’s void for fourteen years.
The more Ruth dwelled on it, the more her heart ached. Her eyes reddened as tears streaked her face.
After a long while, she wiped them away with trembling fingers as she sat up. Love or hate, she had always drawn clear lines. Her affection for Jameson had evaporated the moment she had discovered his infidelity.
As for Richard, her gratitude for him warred with fury. He had saved Ruth, but he had also stolen fourteen years of truth.
Just thinking about it made Ruth furious all over again. She couldn’t believe he had taken such a selfish path, using her amnesia as an excuse to keep the
truth hidden.
If Ruth hadn’t suspected Richard of keeping secrets, hadn’t followed him to Basterel, hadn’t seen Shermaine’s childhood photo, and hadn’t been shocked back into remembering, she might never have discovered the truth. Luckily, there was still time to fix things.
Desperate for details of Shermaine, Ruth needed to see Jay. She had to figure out if Madeline was still living comfortably under her stolen identity. It was unbearable for Ruth to think her children called Madeline “Mom.”
Ruth thought, ‘Now that I’ve regained my memory, it’s time to reclaim my name and my children.‘ She got off the bed and went to find Jay, eager to learn everything he knew.
Shermaine, listening from upstairs, overheard Jameson and Janice’s conversation. Her face turned cold.
Even after learning the truth, Jameson’s sole concern remained the divorce, not a shred of grief for Ruth’s death.
Jameson did feel a flicker of grief. Over the years, he had blamed himself at times for Ruth’s drastic decline and even taken secret pride in watching the once–excellent woman grow petty and dull.
Now, the revelation that it had been Madeline, that lowly maid, all along made his skin crawl.
Jameson remembered how Madeline had once tried to seduce him in Ruth’s absence, wearing Ruth’s clothes. He had recoiled then, disgusted by her
looks and figure.
Never did he expect that Madeline would go as far as changing herself to take Ruth’s place. Yet for over a decade, he had unknowingly shared a bed with Madeline. The thought turned his stomach.
The real Ruth had died. Yes, it stung briefly. They had been married, after all. But the pang faded as quickly as it came.
Natalie’s call came moments after Jameson returned Jean residence. “Jamie, did you find Ruth?”
Jameson didn’t want to share something so shameful and disgusting with Natalie. And on top of that, Janice had already made it clear. As long as she was around, Natalie would never step foot in this house. So he brushed it off casually. “No, she’s not back.”
Natalie asked, “Then where could she have gone?”
Jameson shrugged. “No idea.”
Natalie speculated maliciously. “What if your mother’s hiding her to stop the divorce?”
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