Chapter 3

I remembered when Hendrix got drunk after we got married. I helped him back to the room and merely suggested he drink less. In response, he flew into a rage and shoved me to the ground, hard.

I lost my balance, hitting the back of my head on the floor, and blood gushed out immediately. Gasping in pain, I stared at the blood on my hands and cried out.

Hendrix just stood there, staring coldly at me.

"It hurts, doesn't it? When Yana died, I bet she was in a thousand times more pain than you! But she's gone! If I hadn't been trying to save you back then, she never would have drowned! Yvonne, everything happened because of you!" he said icily.

I could only sit there, staring at him in utter disbelief and feeling the blood continue to pour from my head.

My heart chilled, bit by bit, as I realized what he said.

After a long silence, I finally spoke, "Hendrix! Your rivals sabotaged the yacht, and you're the one who told me to get on the lifeboat. And now you're blaming me? Don't you think that's utterly ridiculous?"

The drunkenness faded from Hendrix's face, replaced by an even deeper indifference.

"Yvonne, I never agreed to this marriage in the first place. If you hadn't told my grandmother you liked me, I wouldn't be forced to marry you."

I laughed bitterly, looking at him like he was a joke.

"So, you're saying all of this is my fault? Hendrix, you don't blame your enemies or your family's pressure, but instead, you blame me. You're just pathetic."

With that, I turned around and left, taking a cab to the hospital to deal with my injuries.

From that moment on, our relationship hit rock bottom. And from that moment on, I never showed him any vulnerability again.

However, now, here in the present, the stranger before me was afraid I might be in pain. He was so gentle and treated me with such care. My eyes stung suddenly, and I quickly turned away, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.

"Thank you," I said.

Andrew raised his head, his smile pure and warm.

"You're welcome."

"Mister Grant, are you in here?"

A voice suddenly came from the door. A man in pajamas, wearing black-framed glasses, stood at the entrance. His eyes quickly landed on me after a brief glance at Andrew.

"Sir, you called earlier about someone falling overboard. Is it this young lady here?"

Andrew nodded and then turned to me.

"He is the medic onboard. He can give you a quick check-up to make sure you're okay."

I nodded.

Andrew quickly stepped aside, allowing Doctor Enfield to come in. He gave me a simple examination, and after asking me a few questions, concluded that I had no major injuries, just extreme fatigue from being in the water too long.

Doctor Enfield stood up and turned to Andrew and said, "There aren't any serious injuries on Miss Lewis, but she's exhausted from drifting in the sea for too long. A good rest is all she needs."

Andrew nodded, escorting Doctor Enfield to the door. They exchanged a few words in hushed tones.

While they talked, I turned to the window. The rain had intensified, and the sea was now completely obscured by darkness.

I could not help but feel a small sense of relief.

When Andrew returned, he said softly, "We are heading to land soon. Where do you live? I can take you home if you'd like."

For some selfish reason, I suddenly did not want to go home. After all, my parents were rarely home, and even when they were, I hardly ever saw them.

Besides, with how little they cared for me, I could be away for a month and they would not even notice.

As for Hendrix, we both died together in our previous lives. Now that I was given a second chance, chances are he was too. He should be embracing Yana as we speak, cherishing this second chance at life with her.

We were married for five years in our previous life. He never brought me to any social events, never slept in the same bed as me. He even took control of my family's business and cut me off.

Whenever someone asked about me, he would sneer, turning me into the biggest joke in our circle.

Now, they can have their happily ever after.

I glanced at Andrew and said, with a hint of pleading in my tone, "I don't have anywhere to go. Could you… let me stay with you for a few days?"

He did not respond immediately, so I tugged at his sleeve, looking at him with wide, pitiful eyes. If my memory serves me right, he was the youngest son of the Grant family and the only person who had helped me when I wanted a divorce in my last life.

He has saved me twice now. He definitely was not a bad person.

Seeing me look so pitiful, he suddenly lowered his head, his gaze intense.

"I'm not a good man. Staying with me will come with a price."

The sudden closeness made me dizzy; I could even smell the faint scent of mint on him.

"Fine, whatever you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," I responded firmly, and he suddenly smiled.

However, the yacht arrived at shore because anything else could happen. I had been drifting at sea for so long that I was running a fever.

As Andrew carried me off the yacht, a familiar voice rang out.

"Yvonne? Is that really you?"

It was Hendrix. He had brought the police with him, likely to organize a search and rescue. When he saw me, Hendrix rushed over, his eyes filled with concern.

"Yvonne, are you okay?"

I stepped down from Andrew's arms, glared at him and answered, "Do I look like there's something wrong with me?"