The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 390: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Anger or self-loathing?

Chapter 390: [ Volume 1] Chaper 390- Anger or self-loathing?

Ray felt like he was suffocating. His world was spinning, his mind unable to process the words leaving Esme’s lips. Yet, in stark contrast to his turmoil, Esme’s expression remained eerily calm.

Her voice was soft, almost gentle, as she spoke.

"I know." She exhaled slowly, as if bracing herself. "I know I must seem like a monster to you. Like a snake that devours its own young. You can blame me all you want—I won’t fight it. But I had no choice."

Ray’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.

"I love that child." Esme’s voice wavered for the first time. "It’s not that I didn’t care. But I love you all more."

The words felt like knives to his chest.

"When I had to choose between the two, I tried to save both. If I could have given my own life to protect you and the child, I would have done it without hesitation. But when it came down to choosing between a child I had never seen, never held, never known... and the people I love with my whole being—" She met his eyes, unwavering. "I chose you."

Ray’s breath caught.

"Ray," she said softly, using his real name. "You’ve known me for years. Lived with me. Seen who I am. You already know that I’m not like most people." Her gaze turned sharp, unwavering. "You should have already guessed what matters most to me."

Her words hung between them like a blade poised to strike.

Ray wanted to scream. To rage. To demand how she could say she loved his child and still make this choice.

But looking at Esme now, at the chilling certainty in her eyes—

At that moment, silence stretched between them like an unbridgeable chasm.

Ray had always known—deep down—that Esme was different. Emotions had never come naturally to her. And yet, with him, she had tried. She had learned to love, to care, to exist beside him in a way that made him believe she had changed.

He had convinced himself that as much as she loved him, she would love their child too.

But he had been wrong.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape, but it died in his throat. Instead, his hands clenched into his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp as if trying to hold himself together. The weight of it all pressed down on him, suffocating.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper—cold, hollow, and laced with pain.

"Please... get out."

Esme didn’t hesitate. She didn’t plead, didn’t try to explain. She only nodded, as if she had expected this.

"Okay."

With that single word, she turned and walked away. No questions. No protests. No looking back.

Jay stood frozen, his gaze bouncing between his brother—hunched over, crumbling under the weight of his emotions—and Esme’s retreating figure. Disbelief crashed over him like a tidal wave.

"Bro? Bro, what the hell are you doing?" Jay’s voice wavered, raw with shock. "Why are you sending Esme away?"

But Ray didn’t answer.

He just sat there, staring at the empty space where she had stood, drowning in the shattering realization that the woman he loved—the woman he thought he knew—had made a choice he could never forgive.

....

Ray sat in the same spot for hours, unmoving, his mind tangled in a storm of emotions. His head throbbed, splitting with every heartbeat, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

When a glass of water suddenly appeared in front of him, he barely reacted. His tired eyes flickered up, meeting Ryan’s steady gaze.

"I don’t want to drink," Ray muttered, his voice hoarse from hours of silence.

Ryan’s jaw tightened. "Drink it, bro," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ray exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His fingers clenched into fists against the table. "Didn’t you hear me?" His voice was low, controlled—until it wasn’t. "I said I don’t want to drink."

Ryan didn’t back down. "Brother, you look like hell. Just drink it."

The words, though spoken with concern, felt like gasoline to the fire burning inside Ray.

In an instant, he shot up from his seat. His arm swung out violently, knocking the glass from Ryan’s hand. It shattered against the floor, water spreading like a fractured mirror across the wood.

"Didn’t you hear me?!" His voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. "I don’t want it!"

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Ryan stared at the spilled water, his expression unreadable. When he finally lifted his gaze, his next words struck deeper than Ray expected.

"Why are you so angry?"

Ray’s breath caught.

Ray suddenly stood up, his body rigid with barely contained fury. His eyes burned with disbelief as he glared at Ryan.

"What did you just ask? Why am I angry?" His voice was sharp, edged with frustration. "Are you even listening to yourself?"

Ryan didn’t flinch. He stood there, calm, his expression unreadable.

Seeing that impassive look, something inside Ray twisted. For a brief moment, Ryan’s face overlapped with Esme’s—the same detached calm, the same unreadable gaze. It was as if they didn’t even realize what they had done, as if they couldn’t understand why he was hurting.

The realization sent a fresh wave of rage through him.

Before he could stop himself, Ray grabbed Ryan’s collar, yanking him close. His voice rose, raw with emotion.

"Are you also going fucking crazy?!"

Hearing the commotion, Kai and Jay rushed into the living room. Their eyes widened in shock at the sight before them—Ray gripping Ryan’s collar, his entire body trembling with anger, while Ryan remained eerily composed.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jay called out, stepping forward to separate them.

Kai hurried to intervene as well, but Ray was like a firestorm, his fury feeding on itself. He shoved Ryan back slightly, his grip tightening as his voice cracked with pent-up frustration.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you? Didn’t you hear what she said earlier?! She—"