Traitor Husband? My Reborn Bullet Found Him... Again! - Chapter 46: Chapter 46
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The confusion and anxiety never left Marcus alone.
He'd thought about just coming clean—telling me that he was my real brother.
But he didn't have the guts.
Lily would look at him with tears in her eyes, asking if he didn't want her anymore.
And I'd calmly brush off every attempt he made to talk to me, standing before him like I belonged to a completely different world—so brilliant it made him feel small.
Both things kept him paralyzed.
But he still hadn't given up on testing the waters.
When he went to Ethan's office to pick up a diagnosis report and found only me there, he actually barged right in and blurted out:
"Ele—Dr. Harrington, don't you want to know how your birth parents are doing?"
"They were attacked with knives. They're both in vegetative states now, still in the hospital."
"Could you... could you maybe just go see them?"
He was holding a bouquet of lilies—clearly meant for Lily.
For the first time, genuine surprise flickered across my face.
And for the first time, a hint of surprise appeared om my face.
Not because I was moved by news of those "parents," but because I was shocked that even with a second chance, Marcus hadn't managed to save them from their fate?
This time, that crazy mental patient still got to them—didn't kill them right away, just left them hanging by a thread.
But this outcome was like a student who knew all the answers still bombing their second attempt at the test.
When Marcus saw my expression, he thought I was finally softening. Just as he was about to keep pushing, I let out a small laugh and asked:
"Mr. Ashford, and who exactly are you? How do you know so much about my birth parents' situation?"
For a split second, Marcus looked at his "little sister" and genuinely wanted to spill everything.
But in the end, he just said quietly:
"I'm... I'm their neighbor."
"I saw your photo when you were little, so..."
I laughed coldly and said:
"Well, aren't you just a regular saint."
"If my parents were decent people like you're pretending to be, maybe I'd consider visiting them."
"But them? They don't deserve it."
Marcus's head snapped up in shock, clutching those lilies as he stepped closer to me:
"What do you mean? Are you really so heartless you won't even look at your own birth parents?"
I raised an eyebrow at him:
"Birth parents? I don't have another set of birth parents."
"My real parents told me when they found me, they put up missing person ads and left them up for a whole year."
"But they never got a single phone call."
Marcus's grip tightened right away—his lips trembled a little as he stared at the ground, too scared to meet my gaze.
Of course they didn't get any calls—
He'd personally made sure of that.
"So if they want to come here for medical treatment, I suppose they could be research subjects at best." I brushed past him: "Other than that, please don't mention these strangers to me again, Mr. Ashford."
Marcus stood there feeling helpless and wound up. He reached out to stop me, wanting to say more, when someone suddenly shoved him aside.
"Audrey, are you okay!"
Dylan burst in, and Mom pulled me over to her right away, carefully checking my hands and neck for any exposed skin.
"Thank god, thank god you're fine..." Dylan exhaled in relief, pulling me toward the door while glaring at Marcus:
"Did you on purpose bring those damn flowers near my sister? What the hell is wrong with you!"
Marcus looked confused, like he had no clue what Dylan was talking about.
Mom stood up and gave Dylan's shoulder a comforting pat:"Easy, honey. This gentleman didn't know Audrey's severely allergic to lily pollen. It's not really his fault."
Ever since Dylan figured out who Marcus was, he'd been super on edge—scared Marcus might take it out on me because I refused to admit we were related. That's why he flipped out over the bouquet.
Only we knew about this—we hadn't told our parents.
But Marcus's face went completely white.
Allergic.
He just stared at the lilies in his hands, head hanging low, all messed up inside.
I watched his guilty expression quietly, knowing exactly what he was remembering.
In my past life, Lily's eighteenth birthday party.
He'd thought about just coming clean—telling me that he was my real brother.
But he didn't have the guts.
Lily would look at him with tears in her eyes, asking if he didn't want her anymore.
And I'd calmly brush off every attempt he made to talk to me, standing before him like I belonged to a completely different world—so brilliant it made him feel small.
Both things kept him paralyzed.
But he still hadn't given up on testing the waters.
When he went to Ethan's office to pick up a diagnosis report and found only me there, he actually barged right in and blurted out:
"Ele—Dr. Harrington, don't you want to know how your birth parents are doing?"
"They were attacked with knives. They're both in vegetative states now, still in the hospital."
"Could you... could you maybe just go see them?"
He was holding a bouquet of lilies—clearly meant for Lily.
For the first time, genuine surprise flickered across my face.
And for the first time, a hint of surprise appeared om my face.
Not because I was moved by news of those "parents," but because I was shocked that even with a second chance, Marcus hadn't managed to save them from their fate?
This time, that crazy mental patient still got to them—didn't kill them right away, just left them hanging by a thread.
But this outcome was like a student who knew all the answers still bombing their second attempt at the test.
When Marcus saw my expression, he thought I was finally softening. Just as he was about to keep pushing, I let out a small laugh and asked:
"Mr. Ashford, and who exactly are you? How do you know so much about my birth parents' situation?"
For a split second, Marcus looked at his "little sister" and genuinely wanted to spill everything.
But in the end, he just said quietly:
"I'm... I'm their neighbor."
"I saw your photo when you were little, so..."
I laughed coldly and said:
"Well, aren't you just a regular saint."
"If my parents were decent people like you're pretending to be, maybe I'd consider visiting them."
"But them? They don't deserve it."
Marcus's head snapped up in shock, clutching those lilies as he stepped closer to me:
"What do you mean? Are you really so heartless you won't even look at your own birth parents?"
I raised an eyebrow at him:
"Birth parents? I don't have another set of birth parents."
"My real parents told me when they found me, they put up missing person ads and left them up for a whole year."
"But they never got a single phone call."
Marcus's grip tightened right away—his lips trembled a little as he stared at the ground, too scared to meet my gaze.
Of course they didn't get any calls—
He'd personally made sure of that.
"So if they want to come here for medical treatment, I suppose they could be research subjects at best." I brushed past him: "Other than that, please don't mention these strangers to me again, Mr. Ashford."
Marcus stood there feeling helpless and wound up. He reached out to stop me, wanting to say more, when someone suddenly shoved him aside.
"Audrey, are you okay!"
Dylan burst in, and Mom pulled me over to her right away, carefully checking my hands and neck for any exposed skin.
"Thank god, thank god you're fine..." Dylan exhaled in relief, pulling me toward the door while glaring at Marcus:
"Did you on purpose bring those damn flowers near my sister? What the hell is wrong with you!"
Marcus looked confused, like he had no clue what Dylan was talking about.
Mom stood up and gave Dylan's shoulder a comforting pat:"Easy, honey. This gentleman didn't know Audrey's severely allergic to lily pollen. It's not really his fault."
Ever since Dylan figured out who Marcus was, he'd been super on edge—scared Marcus might take it out on me because I refused to admit we were related. That's why he flipped out over the bouquet.
Only we knew about this—we hadn't told our parents.
But Marcus's face went completely white.
Allergic.
He just stared at the lilies in his hands, head hanging low, all messed up inside.
I watched his guilty expression quietly, knowing exactly what he was remembering.
In my past life, Lily's eighteenth birthday party.
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