The Wife Who Jumped on New Year's Eve

Chapter 16

Joanna Taylor woke up in the hospital, the sharp scent of antiseptic flooding her nostrils.

Her gaze was hollow, her mind a foggy haze, as if she were lost in a mist.

Yet the moment she saw Ryan Bennett, memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Her daughter's sweet smile, her soft voice. Grandma Wilson's kind face, her warm embrace...

Then, those beautiful images were torn apart by cruel reality.

Lily Bennett's broken body. Grandma Wilson's pale face. Every detail was a knife, stabbing deep into her heart. A desperate urge to escape surged within her.

She didn't want to face any of it—not the pain, not the memories, and certainly not Ryan, who was tangled in every thread of her tragedy.

Her movements roused Ryan, who had been keeping vigil beside her. His weary expression softened slightly.

"Joanna, you're finally awake. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

Her voice was ice.

"Thank you, Mr. Bennett. Where's my brother?"

She silently reminded herself to play the amnesiac. She couldn't let Ryan see through her act. She hated him—yet he had risked his life to save her.

But no matter what, things could never go back to the way they were.

Ryan's voice was subdued, but his gaze burned into her.

"He went to get you some food."

"The situation was urgent. This was the nearest hospital."

"Every day you were unconscious, I prayed for you to wake up. Joanna, I swear I'll never let anything hurt you again."

Once, those words would have been everything she longed to hear. Now, they meant nothing.

Ryan had loved Crystal Lynn so deeply, yet here he was, clinging to her. She didn't understand.

Joanna turned her face away.

"Mr. Bennett, I really don't know you. Please leave."

"I have my own life. You're causing me trouble."

Pain flickered in Ryan's eyes, but he refused to give up.

He kept talking, recounting their past, trying to spark her memory.

Joanna shut her eyes tight, refusing to listen.

Every word was like ripping open a freshly healed wound.

Sean Yates walked in with a bowl of congee. Seeing Joanna's strained expression, his brow furrowed.

"Mr. Bennett, thank you for saving my sister."

"I've also looked into your wife's situation. I'm sorry for your loss, but my sister isn't her."

Ryan's gaze turned icy.

"Is that so? But the way you look at her isn't exactly innocent either."

"Enough."

Joanna couldn't take it anymore. She had already died once—why wouldn't Ryan let her go?

At her outburst, both men fell silent.

Ryan was drowning in disappointment, desperate for his beloved to remember.

In the days that followed, he visited Joanna daily.

He brought her favorite flowers, told her amusing stories, trying to coax a smile from her.

He stopped talking about the past, focusing instead on the present—on the future.

But Joanna remained indifferent. No matter what he did, she met him with cold detachment.

Because when night fell and she lay alone in bed, she heard Lily's laughter, remembered Grandma Wilson's gentle advice—and the pain only grew sharper.

The wounds of the past could never be undone. And she would never forgive Ryan for his mistakes.