Chapter 201 - 200: Would a Person Like Julian Fletcher Commit Suicide?

Chapter 201: Chapter 200: Would a Person Like Julian Fletcher Commit Suicide?

Julian Fletcher froze. "Cece..."

I looked at Julian Fletcher and tore the letter to shreds. "None of this matters anymore. Cecilia Caldwell is dead."

Cecilia Caldwell is dead.

Nothing from the past matters anymore.

’I just know that... when I deliberately left just now, seeing Asher in so much pain, my heart ached.’

’It felt like it was being torn apart.’

"I want to get out." I told Julian Fletcher to stop the car.

But Julian Fletcher showed no intention of stopping.

"Stop the car!" I was starting to lose control, trying to force the car door open.

Julian Fletcher motioned for the driver to keep driving properly, then raised a hand to pin me in my seat. "Cecilia Caldwell! How long are you going to keep acting crazy with him! I know you hate me, I know you want to punish me, but isn’t this enough?"

His face was dark, his anger palpable.

I struggled to push him away, but his eyes reddened as he let go of me. He took off his suit jacket, pulled back his cuff, and showed me the scars on his wrist...

There were many more than I had seen before.

Crisscrossing, they looked like self-harm, a form of self-torture.

"I’m punishing myself, too..." Julian Fletcher’s voice was hoarse, choked with sobs. "I don’t know how to make you believe me."

"Tell me... tell me what you want me to do, Cece... Just tell me. Tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me, okay? Just say the word..." Julian Fletcher lost control and hugged me, holding me tight.

His voice was hoarse and choked. "Even if you tell me to die, I’ll go die right now."

"Julian Fletcher... Cecilia Caldwell is dead. What’s the point of doing all this now? Why didn’t you cherish her when she was alive?" I asked, my voice raspy.

"Heaven gave me another chance. I know you’re her, Cece..." Julian Fletcher’s voice trembled as he begged me to forgive him.

"Please, I’m begging you." He held me desperately, pleading for my forgiveness.

"What will it take for you to forgive me?" he asked, his tone imploring.

"Then... go die," I said, my voice hoarse, low, and filled with hatred.

’Then he can just go and die.’

’By what right did he treat me like that back then?’

’By what right!’

Julian Fletcher’s arms, holding me, went rigid before slowly letting go.

He slumped back against the seat and said softly, "Stop the car..."

Julian Fletcher told the driver to stop.

Without even glancing at Julian Fletcher, I moved to get out of the car.

"Even if he’s been lying to you, using you, and hurting you this whole time... even if what he’s done to you is a hundred, a thousand times crueler than anything I ever did, you’d still choose him, wouldn’t you?" Julian Fletcher asked quietly.

In that moment, he looked so wronged he seemed on the verge of collapsing.

’He was trying so hard to find evidence that I don’t love Asher.’

’And he was trying just as hard to find proof that Asher has hurt me.’

’He thought that if he could just make me see the truth of what happened back then, I would leave Asher and choose to go back to him.’

"If he really has been lying to me, using me, and hurting me, then I will leave him. I won’t take back a single piece of trash that’s hurt me," I said softly, pushing the door open and getting out.

In my hand were the shredded remains of the letter I had written to Asher.

As I passed a trash can, I threw the letter inside.

’When Asher first denied it was him and asked if I believed him, I did.’

’But what angered me was that he was covering for that scoundrel.’

’He was protecting the person who truly hurt me.’

’And to do it, he took all the blame upon himself.’

Taking a deep breath, I ran toward Asher’s place.

’Just as I thought, I still can’t let him go...’

’But I’m still scared, terrified even.’

’If he was the one who hurt me, the one who killed me... what would I do?’

After running for more than ten minutes, I finally got back home.

The deaf old man was tending to the garden. The yard felt empty and looked a little desolate.

The wind was picking up, and it looked like it was about to rain.

I ran into the living room and searched everywhere, but I couldn’t find Asher.

The bedroom, the bathroom, the guest room—he wasn’t in any of them.

"Sir..." I ran back into the yard to ask the deaf-mute man where Asher was.

But I don’t know sign language, so I could only stammer and gesture.

The man seemed to notice my anxiety and pointed toward the backyard.

I took a deep breath and ran toward the back.

The backyard was wide open, but I still couldn’t find any sign of Asher.

I thought he might be in the basement, in that secret hideout, but it was empty too.

When I came back out, I found Asher in a corner.

He was curled up next to the dog kennel, hugging Stella, just huddled there.

He seemed to be talking to Stella, murmuring, "Stella, she doesn’t want me anymore..."

I walked over step by step and stood in front of him. "Isn’t it dirty?"

Asher didn’t look up. He just kept hugging Stella and said in a choked voice, "You don’t want me anymore..."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

"Asher, I’m so tired," I said softly.

Asher looked up at me guiltily. "I’m sorry..."

’He seems to be very good at saying sorry.’

"What are you sorry for?"

"I shouldn’t have locked you up... shouldn’t have... hurt you, tied you up," he said quietly.

"Was it really you who imprisoned me, hurt me, and tied me up?" I asked, frowning.

He lowered his gaze and nodded.

I didn’t say anything else, not knowing how much of what he said was true and how much was false.

"Cece, I’m afraid you’ll leave me." He stood up and followed behind me. "I’m sorry..."

"If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll leave you even faster," I said softly, walking wearily toward the basement. "Pull up the surveillance footage. Let’s see who went to find that killer who jumped to their death."

Asher followed me and reached out, grabbing my wrist. "You should go up and rest. I’ll look for it. Once I find it, I’ll copy it for you to see."

I stopped. ’That works too,’ I thought.

"Asher, there are too many things we need to sort out." I looked at him, hoping he would stop being so secretive.

Asher didn’t say anything.

I turned to leave.

Asher spoke softly. "Everyone has their own secrets, and everyone has something they need to protect... Cece, I’m sorry."

My eyes reddened, and I turned back to look at him. "Is the thing you’re protecting more important than me?"

Asher clenched his fists. "Cece... the one I’m protecting is you..."

I averted my gaze, not wanting to listen to his lies.

Back in my room, I lay on the bed and wearily closed my eyes.

’Cece is the killer.’

’Cece is the killer.’

For some reason, Peach’s words kept echoing in my mind.

’Cece is the killer.’

I snapped my eyes open in frustration, my breath coming in short gasps as I stared at the ceiling.

’What in the world have I forgotten!’

"Silvia Lynch! Silvia Lynch, get out here!"

Someone was at the gate, shouting my name.

I recognized the voice instantly. It was Erin Whittaker.

"Silvia Lynch! What the hell did you say to Julian Fletcher! He killed himself... Are you satisfied now! You’re satisfied now that he’s dead, aren’t you!"

Erin Whittaker was still outside, screaming like a madwoman.

I frowned, got up, and walked to the window to look at the still-sobbing Erin Whittaker.

"Julian Fletcher killed himself! You’re the murderer! You’re the murderer!"

’Julian Fletcher killed himself...’

’I suddenly remembered what I said to Julian Fletcher when I got out of the car: "Then... go die..."’

’Would a man like him really kill himself?’