He Traded My Trauma for Her Redemption - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

But he wasn’t wrong.
Jayden trusted Ivy unconditionally while I was merely his wife in name.
He could even disregard my safety just because of a single word from her.
I let out a soft laugh, my eyes stinging a little.
“Thank you, Little Lord.”
“Don’t call me that anymore. There’s nothing little about me now.”
His tone was serious, but a mischievous smile tugged at his lips.
My face grew warm. Just like before, I playfully threw a mock punch at his shoulder—only to feel the jarring hardness under my knuckles, leaving my hand slightly numb from the impact.
He leaned in anxiously to check if I was okay. Seeing it wasn’t serious, he relaxed and started rambling nonsense with his usual cocky charm.
“Still trying to beat me up like you used to? Back then, I was letting you win. Now—hah—if you tick me off, I’ll have that bastard husband of yours chopped to pieces and lock you up so you can’t leave here!”
I blinked and spotted a childish glint in his expression. So I casually played along.
“Little Lord’s really mighty now, huh?”
His hand, which was gripping the hem of my skirt, tightened even more. The smile on his lips was getting harder and harder to hold back.
Then he suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace.
At that moment of stunned surprise, I caught the pleasant scent of his aftershave.
“I missed you so much. I’ve waited a long time for this day,” he murmured.
His broad shoulders enveloped me, and despite the confidence in his presence, there was a trace of grievance in his voice.
I gently patted his back to comfort him, then looked out through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows at the starry sky—and for the first time in days, I smiled from the heart.
I really did begin to recover in Mervyn’s estate.
Each day, my only real concern was deciding what I wanted the chef to cook.
Mervyn seemed busy yet he rarely left the villa.
While I was recovering, he played golf with me, taught me how to shoot and ride horses, and even took me fishing by the lake.
Sometimes, it all felt a bit surreal.
It was like he was born to indulge in luxury with a natural grace in every move he made.
And in his quiet companionship, my heart gradually began to heal.
The only intrusion came from the messages Jayden still sent to my phone.
Every single one of them was dripping with desperate affection.
[25 days left. I dreamed about you last night, Cordelia.]
[20 days. I regret everything, Cordelia. Are you okay?]
[15 days. I went to the Dickensons estate today. I couldn’t get close but just seeing the place where you live from afar made me feel a bit better.]
He probably never imagined that I’d be treated so well here at the Dickenson estate. That’s why he never expected a reply.
His regret and guilt were built on the assumption that I was suffering.
And because of that, I felt nothing at all.
Sometimes, I even checked in on Ivy’s social media accounts.
Her livestreams had completely stopped, but her account was still active.
She uploaded new videos daily. Though her face no longer appeared on screen, many of the scenes looked painfully familiar.
The armrest in the living room. The vanity mirror in the bedroom. The little courtyard with the flower garden…
Every background shown in her videos was part of the home I, as the rightful lady of the house, had carefully designed.
In the latest video, her voice was sweet and coy.
“How many meals did you make for me back in the day? Looks like you’re a bit out of practice now.”
A man’s familiar silhouette stood at the kitchen counter, awkwardly slicing vegetables.
“You need more practice, don’t you think?”
She reached out and deliberately tilted his chin toward the camera, revealing the lower half of his face—handsome and sharply defined.
With what sounded like helpless amusement, the man chuckled.
“Stop messing around.”