I Faked My Death—Now He’s Lost His Mind

Jameson seemed exasperated, almost laughing in anger, "Could you stop being unreasonable?"

"I'm telling the truth. Your father, Oscar Hawke, your grandmother, Sophia, your uncles and aunts, the other executives of the company, and everyone from Northrop's family never intended to accept me."

"If they didn't accept you, Sophia and Oscar wouldn't have allowed us to marry."

"To get their approval, I kneeled all night outside Sophia's room and took ten lashes from Oscar. Freya, we've come a long way, can't you cherish this? Can't you let me..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but I understood.

He wanted to say, can't you let him feel that his efforts back then weren't in vain?

The very thought betrayed his regrets. It showed that he already regretted his past sacrifices to marry me, regretted marrying an ordinary girl with no background, and regretted rejecting the Hawke family's arranged marriage proposal.

Initially, I wanted to have a sincere conversation with him. To explain that I haven't been idle these past few years.

The first time I attended a party, I was bullied by Matilda Northrop and Jameson's cousin, together with other heiresses. They mocked me for not being able to appreciate wine.

Determined not to embarrass Jameson, I studied everything about wine and even apprenticed under a wine connoisseur. The master praised my rapid progress, claiming I could be considered an expert.

But at the next party, when Matilda found out that wine couldn't stump me anymore, she switched to conversing in French with the others. These heiresses had all studied abroad and basic French conversation was effortless for them.

Though I graduated from a prestigious university, I came from a small town where I received rote French education — good at exams, poor at listening and speaking.

I couldn't understand what they were saying, but their sneering glances told me enough. Returning home, I enrolled in one-on-one online tutoring with a foreign teacher, studying late into the night.

Eventually, I could converse fluently with the teacher. At the next party, when Matilda realized I understood their French, she started discussing luxury brands.

Similarly, I began cramming information on luxury goods after returning home.

Time after time, I realized it was futile. Even if I understood everything they talked about, I could never fit in, because they never intended to accept me.

When they had nothing left to taunt me with, Matilda resorted to having a waiter spill a drink on me, humiliating me in front of everyone. In her domain, within her circle, she had endless ways to trouble me.

I stood alone, with no one to back me up. The Hawke family members never saw me as one of their own. Before we got married, Jameson's grandmother, Sophia, approached me.

I still remember the look of disdain she gave me.

"I agreed to let you marry because I couldn't bear to see Jameson harm himself over you. He knelt all night and took lashes from his father, now he's in the hospital."

"He's the only heir of the Hawke family, and my heart aches for him."

"So, I let this marriage happen, but don't be too pleased.

"I'm telling you now, your marriage won't last long!"

Back then, I was only ecstatic about marrying Jameson, thinking Sophia's words were merely out of spite.

Now, I understand, the old are indeed wise.