Rebirth of the Wife in Despair by Tess Munoz

Chapter 66 Predetermined

Apart from these actions, she had no other choice, as her fate had already been predetermined by

them a long time ago.

A surge

of emotion welled up in her chest, leaving Eileen unsure of how to release it. She tightly clenched her

fingers into her palm and kept her eyes downcast, maintaining silence.

Vera sensed the heavy atmosphere in the ward, emanating from Eric. Trying to lighten the mood, she

smiled and said, “Eric, didn’t we buy movie tickets? Isn’t it almost time for the movie? If we don’t leave

soon, we’ll be late.”

She shook her head at Eric, signaling him not to continue speaking.

She remained unaware of what had transpired between them. Eileen, who had always deeply. loved

Eric, suddenly became indifferent towards him, occasionally even hurling harsh words at him.

At times, Eric’s anger could even terrify Vera herself.

Eric tore Eileen’s sketch, his eyes gleaming with a cold, mysterious light. “Seems like you’ve become

complacent. Haven’t you learned your lesson after three months?”

Vera quickly pulled Eric away, and they walked towards the door.

Just then, Eileen picked up the torn painting from the ground and called out to the man, causing them

to halt in their tracks.

“Eric, I just want to do what I love. Can you stop interfering in my affairs? I have already compromised

on everything you wanted me to do. Whether it’s going to Hulbury University. or getting married right

after graduation… For the remaining three years, can you please stop meddling in my affairs?”

He despises me, so why did he feel compelled to destroy my painting? Eric, beyond our

inconsequential familial ties, there’s nothing else binding us.

After they left, only silence remained in the room.

Does this count as a complete fallout with Eric? Well, what do I have to fear when I’ve already

experienced death once?

Eileen finished all the food in the thermal lunch box. Surprisingly, half an hour later, someone brought

more food.

Concerned that she might still be hungry, they had ordered from another restaurant for her.

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Despite already feeling quite full, Eileen’s hand, holding the spoon, mechanically brought more food to

her mouth. She didn’t understand what was happening to her.

Unable to find an outlet for her emotions, Eileen resorted to excessive eating and drinking. It seemed

like this was the only way she could prevent herself from overthinking.

Normally, she didn’t eat much, but now she consumed six times her usual portion.

When the nurse entered to change Eileen’s dressing, she heard noise from the bathroom. “Miss, are

you alright?”

The nurse stood at the door, observing the person slumped on the floor inside. Glancing at the messy

takeout boxes on the table, the nurse’s eyes showed concern.

“Get out,” Eileen snapped.

“It’s time to change your dressing.”

“I said, get out!”

Startled, the nurse hastily placed the medicine on the table and quickly left, fearing to provoke Eileen.

“I’ll leave the medicine here. Do remember to take it,” the nurse reminded before making a swift exit.

A curious colleague passing by sneaked a peek inside and wondered aloud, “She… hasn’t really gone

mad, has she?”

The nurse who exited Eileen’s ward took her colleague aside to a secluded area. She whispered, “I

think that might be the case. Perhaps I should talk to Dr. Xenos! I suspect she’s suffering from

depression. If she contemplates suicide, her family might cause a scene. I think it’s better to mention it

anyway. It’s not about fearing the likely, but the unlikely.”

The bodyguard monitoring Eileen reported her situation to Jasper, who resided in the VIP ward

upstairs.

The entire fifteenth floor had been reserved by the Smith family.

Jasper was gradually taking over Smith Corporation, and he was beginning to make appearances in

the media. After a long period of silence, the heir to Smith Corporation. reappeared in the public eye,

creating a buzz online.

After his first cooking experience, Jasper developed an interest in the culinary arts. On one side were

pastries made by Eileen, and on the other was a cookbook purchased by Richard.

Engrossed in reading, Jasper reached for snacks, prompting Richard to gently remind him, “Mr. Smith,

you’ve finished all your food.”

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As Jasper looked over, he saw only crumbs remaining from his feast.

“Are you planning to learn how to cook, Mr. Smith?”

“What do you think?”

Richard was genuinely surprised. “Is it for Ms. Eileen?” It seems likely…

Jasper pondered his own condition, doubting anyone could love a man with crippled legs. Yet, he held

onto the hope that if Eileen enjoyed his cooking, he could continue to prepare meals for her in the

future.

For some unknown reason, a smile unknowingly curved up at the corner of Jasper’s mouth.

Observing Jasper’s actions, Richard couldn’t help but think he was behaving like a rogue, going to

great lengths and using all means to win Eileen over.

But Ms. Eileen is still young. Isn’t it still too early to be doing this?

Just then, the bodyguard entered the ward. “Mr. Smith.”

“Speak,” Jasper responded.

The bodyguard efficiently conveyed every word he had heard, ensuring no detail was missed.

Jasper’s eyes hardened, and a subtle hint of ruthlessness emanated from his gaze. “Is this the kind of

life she’s leading in the Swan residence?”

“Mr. Smith, how about we have Ms. Eileen stay in the adjacent room? It could prevent some unwanted

disturbances,” Richard suggested.

“Wouldn’t that be too contrived?”

“Well, Ms. Swan can be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days.”

After some thought, Richard proposed, “Ms. Eileen is currently emotionally unstable. Instead, we

should consider how to make her feel better.”

Curious, Jasper asked, “Do you have an idea?”

“Ms. Eileen enjoys painting, so she likely enjoys attending art exhibitions. I recall that Mr. Edward will

be hosting an art exhibition in Hulbury soon.”

Samuel was one of the most influential painters internationally, with one of his pieces, “Ember,” once

fetching a staggering price of over fifty million.

The art exhibition took place once a year, each time in a different region, and tickets for the

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Jasper tapped his fingers rhythmically on his wheelchair’s armrest. “Fabian, contact Edward. Ideally,

the tickets should be delivered by tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll take care of it right away.”

Smith Corporation collaborated on this art exhibition, making it easy to secure a few tickets.

Jasper, always prioritizing efficiency in his work, had Edward’s domestic studio send someone to

deliver the tickets to Serene Hospital in under three hours.

Eileen held two tickets in her hand, somewhat in disbelief. “Are you saying these tickets are

for me?”

The staff member, a woman dressed professionally, revealed a courteous smile and said, “Yes, Mr.

Swan. We have selected five fans of Mr. Edward from Instagram. You are fortunate to have been

chosen by our studio, and there is also a catalog with Mr. Edward’s autograph. Since 1984, his

personal paintings have been compiled into a catalog, which is also the prize

this time.”

Eileen couldn’t believe it; it felt like a dream.

Edward Watts, once my mother’s favorite painter-even she had never attended his art exhibitions.

Eileen’s face lit up with a rare smile, expressing a joy that words couldn’t capture.

“Ms. Eileen, make sure to attend when the time comes. Who knows, there might be an unexpected

surprise.”

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