My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant - Chapter 37: Chapter 37
You are reading My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant, Chapter 37: Chapter 37. Read more chapters of My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant.
“Do you even have the right to accuse me anymore?”
Ethan’s voice shook with rage. “You killed two children! How could you do such a thing?”
His entire body trembled, faced red with fury, consumed by hatred.
The fragile sense of guilt he had painstakingly built within himself shattered in an instant.
“If you’ve destroyed my only hope,” he snarled, “then I’ll make sure you experience pain worse than mine.”
At the hospital, Ruth sat on the floor in despair, gripping her phone tightly.
She had tried countless times to call Ethan, but her calls went unanswered.
Henry had survived—for now. But his condition returned to how it was before:
He was hooked on machines, surviving on dialysis, his life hanging by a thread.
Without a matching kidney or umbilical cord blood, there was nothing left but waiting—for death.
She sobbed uncontrollably on the cold floor, filled with remorse and resentment.
If only she hadn’t flaunted her triumph in front of Samantha, hadn’t provoked her with arrogance and smugness…
Maybe then, Samantha wouldn’t have run away.
She also blamed Samantha—
For being selfish. For being overly sensitive and stubborn.
In her mind, it was Samantha’s temper that delayed Henry’s treatment.
All her hopes rested on Samantha, the one person she needed.
Tears smeared her face as she kept checking her phone, praying—desperately—that Ethan would bring good news.
But what she didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ethan was standing in a cemetery.
And with dirt under his fingernails and madness in his eyes, he was prying open Grace’s grave.
His grief had turned into blind vengeance.
If Samantha could kill his son by depriving him of hope, then he would desecrate her daughter’s memory in return.
In a frenzy, he shattered the urn containing Grace’s ashes, scattered them into a dog’s golden food bowl, and took countless photos of the desecration.
“You want to take my son’s life?” He roared into the air. “Then I’ll destroy your daughter’s soul!”
When Samantha still didn’t respond, his rage spiraled even further—until it finally collapsed into bitter silence.
And then he remembered: he still had one thing left. Henry. His son. His only son.
He wiped his face, composed himself, and returned to the hospital.
When he entered, Ruth ran to him, her eyes swollen from crying.
“Is it okay?” she asked with trembling hope.
Ethan nodded slowly, reassuring her in a steady voice.
“It’s all taken care of. Henry will get a kidney soon.”
With that, Ruth collapsed into his arms and wept, overwhelmed with relief.
Looking at the unconscious boy lying in the hospital bed, Ethan made a painful but determined choice.
He would be the donor. Henry was his flesh and blood, and it was his duty to save him.
Holding Ruth’s hand, he walked into the operating wing to begin the pre-surgical evaluation.
As he sat in silence, waiting for the results, a storm of conflicting thoughts raced through his mind.
Love. Hate. Regret.
He remembered seeing Grace in the hospital after she’d been kidnapped.
She’d lain there motionless, her little frame helpless on the hospital bed.
He tried not to think of her bright laughter, her mischievous grin, or the way she used to call him “Daddy” with sparkling eyes.
He forced himself to focus on Henry. This was his son now. This was who he had to save.
Back then, he hadn’t believed Grace would die. It was just a kidney, he told himself. She’d recover.
But she had a coagulation disorder—one he hadn’t known about.
She’d bled out and couldn’t be saved.
He’d handed her body over to a terminally ill man, bribed him heavily to take the fall.
He hadn’t expected the man to hide her corpse in a septic tank.
When he saw what Grace’s body had become—distorted, filthy, unrecognizable—he had felt something deeper than guilt:
Shame. Rage. Grief.
Maybe he regretted it, just a little.
He decided that after the surgery, he would collect the remaining ashes and build her a better grave. A place she truly deserved.
But when the doctor finally came in, holding the results, his face was unreadable.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wells,” he said gently. “You’re not a match for the child.”
Then he paused, as if unsure whether to continue.
“The test also shows… there’s no biological relationship between you and him.”
“Is there anyone else who could be tested?”
Ethan sat frozen, utterly stunned.
The words barely registered at first.
No match. No relationship.
All the courage he had summoned, the grand resolution to sacrifice himself—
It meant nothing.
He wasn’t Henry’s father. Not biologically. Not at all.
And the weight of that revelation crashed over him like an avalanche.
Everything he had done, everything he had destroyed—
It was all for a lie.
Ethan’s voice shook with rage. “You killed two children! How could you do such a thing?”
His entire body trembled, faced red with fury, consumed by hatred.
The fragile sense of guilt he had painstakingly built within himself shattered in an instant.
“If you’ve destroyed my only hope,” he snarled, “then I’ll make sure you experience pain worse than mine.”
At the hospital, Ruth sat on the floor in despair, gripping her phone tightly.
She had tried countless times to call Ethan, but her calls went unanswered.
Henry had survived—for now. But his condition returned to how it was before:
He was hooked on machines, surviving on dialysis, his life hanging by a thread.
Without a matching kidney or umbilical cord blood, there was nothing left but waiting—for death.
She sobbed uncontrollably on the cold floor, filled with remorse and resentment.
If only she hadn’t flaunted her triumph in front of Samantha, hadn’t provoked her with arrogance and smugness…
Maybe then, Samantha wouldn’t have run away.
She also blamed Samantha—
For being selfish. For being overly sensitive and stubborn.
In her mind, it was Samantha’s temper that delayed Henry’s treatment.
All her hopes rested on Samantha, the one person she needed.
Tears smeared her face as she kept checking her phone, praying—desperately—that Ethan would bring good news.
But what she didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ethan was standing in a cemetery.
And with dirt under his fingernails and madness in his eyes, he was prying open Grace’s grave.
His grief had turned into blind vengeance.
If Samantha could kill his son by depriving him of hope, then he would desecrate her daughter’s memory in return.
In a frenzy, he shattered the urn containing Grace’s ashes, scattered them into a dog’s golden food bowl, and took countless photos of the desecration.
“You want to take my son’s life?” He roared into the air. “Then I’ll destroy your daughter’s soul!”
When Samantha still didn’t respond, his rage spiraled even further—until it finally collapsed into bitter silence.
And then he remembered: he still had one thing left. Henry. His son. His only son.
He wiped his face, composed himself, and returned to the hospital.
When he entered, Ruth ran to him, her eyes swollen from crying.
“Is it okay?” she asked with trembling hope.
Ethan nodded slowly, reassuring her in a steady voice.
“It’s all taken care of. Henry will get a kidney soon.”
With that, Ruth collapsed into his arms and wept, overwhelmed with relief.
Looking at the unconscious boy lying in the hospital bed, Ethan made a painful but determined choice.
He would be the donor. Henry was his flesh and blood, and it was his duty to save him.
Holding Ruth’s hand, he walked into the operating wing to begin the pre-surgical evaluation.
As he sat in silence, waiting for the results, a storm of conflicting thoughts raced through his mind.
Love. Hate. Regret.
He remembered seeing Grace in the hospital after she’d been kidnapped.
She’d lain there motionless, her little frame helpless on the hospital bed.
He tried not to think of her bright laughter, her mischievous grin, or the way she used to call him “Daddy” with sparkling eyes.
He forced himself to focus on Henry. This was his son now. This was who he had to save.
Back then, he hadn’t believed Grace would die. It was just a kidney, he told himself. She’d recover.
But she had a coagulation disorder—one he hadn’t known about.
She’d bled out and couldn’t be saved.
He’d handed her body over to a terminally ill man, bribed him heavily to take the fall.
He hadn’t expected the man to hide her corpse in a septic tank.
When he saw what Grace’s body had become—distorted, filthy, unrecognizable—he had felt something deeper than guilt:
Shame. Rage. Grief.
Maybe he regretted it, just a little.
He decided that after the surgery, he would collect the remaining ashes and build her a better grave. A place she truly deserved.
But when the doctor finally came in, holding the results, his face was unreadable.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wells,” he said gently. “You’re not a match for the child.”
Then he paused, as if unsure whether to continue.
“The test also shows… there’s no biological relationship between you and him.”
“Is there anyone else who could be tested?”
Ethan sat frozen, utterly stunned.
The words barely registered at first.
No match. No relationship.
All the courage he had summoned, the grand resolution to sacrifice himself—
It meant nothing.
He wasn’t Henry’s father. Not biologically. Not at all.
And the weight of that revelation crashed over him like an avalanche.
Everything he had done, everything he had destroyed—
It was all for a lie.
End of My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant Chapter 37. Continue reading Chapter 38 or return to My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant book page.