Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

Victor used to be such a cocky guy, but now he's stuck in a cell. For someone his age, who should be chilling with family, it's pretty harsh.

But hey, he brought it on himself.

Victor glanced at Ethan, who was just staring at the table. Neither of them said a word, like they didn't know what to say.

Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed a few times, like he wanted to speak but couldn't get the words out.

Finally, Victor's laugh broke the awkward silence.

"You're my son, but you're nothing like me. Still, I think I know what you're thinking, so no need to say anything. Actually, I want to have a chat with my daughter-in-law."

I was standing nearby, totally caught off guard. I didn't expect Victor to want to talk to me.

And it was the first time he called me his daughter-in-law.

Ethan got up and moved aside. I sat down and looked at Victor through the glass.

When I first read Benjamin's diary, I was filled with rage, a burning anger that made me want to rip him apart. But now that he's in prison and paying for what he did, my anger has faded. Hatred couldn't change the past or bring my parents back.

With less anger, there's more pain, because the one who put him in prison was his own son.

Getting justice for my parents hurt him, and it hurt me too.

Victor looked calm, and he started talking slowly with a smile.

"When Ethan first brought you home, I felt like I'd seen you before, so I looked into you. Honestly, I haven't had a peaceful life all these years. I knew I messed up, and I was always scared."

He laughed then, like he couldn't believe how ridiculous it all was.

I stayed quiet, just listening, as memories of the past came rushing back.

"Seeing you made my anxiety worse. My mind got all twisted. It was like I was under a spell, unable to wake up and not wanting to. If I did, I'd be anxious and scared, afraid the truth would come out." Thinking back to everything Victor did after Ethan and I got married, which was all to push us apart, I understood that he was just feeling guilty.

Victor lowered his head and slumped, like a man who'd fought his whole life and was finally worn out, ready to let go. There was no bitterness, just a sense of relief. "I actually thought about turning myself in because I've been mentally tormented all these years, plagued by nightmares. It wasn't easy, but I never had the guts. Looking back, I was super greedy, wanting everything and living recklessly. So now when I see Richard being wild and unruly, I don't hold him back much. I get him. Every guy probably goes through this phase."

He sighed, "Emily, you're really kind, gentle, and generous. I hope you can be generous with Ethan too. None of this is his fault."

I couldn't help but look at Victor in surprise. He had already stood up, with a calm and unhurried smile on his face. He glanced at me, then looked up at Ethan standing not far away, and turned to leave, walking away with ease. Victor would spend his days in prison, reflecting on his past glories and absurdities, living out his remaining years in memories and repentance.

That departing figure was the most carefree moment he left in my memory.

After returning from the prison, we hardly communicated. Maybe neither of us knew how to start the conversation.

After dinner, I took Harper back to the room first.

These days, Harper had been sleeping with us. Hunter probably felt it was unfair and dragged the nanny to the door, insisting on sleeping with us too.

I had no choice but to pick up Hunter as well, letting the two little ones sleep together.

After finally getting them to sleep, I heard the door open and instinctively closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

I heard him gently close the door and walk softly. Ethan got into bed very quietly.

I didn't know when I fell asleep, but with so much on my mind, I didn't sleep well. In the middle of the night, I suddenly woke up and found that Ethan was not in bed.

I got up, and the room was pitch black, with the curtains gently swaying in the breeze.

There was a soft click on the balcony, like the sound of a lighter.

I got out of bed, put on my shoes, and walked towards the balcony.

The night was still deep, and Ethan was sitting on a chair on the balcony, smoking.

It was quiet, with only the flickering light at his fingertips.

His smoking silhouette looked very melancholic in the night.

I always felt that Ethan seemed to be carrying a lot of burdens, and these burdens were like an invisible net, trapping him.

"What does a cigarette taste like?" I asked as I walked up to him.

He looked up at me and suddenly smiled.

"Do you want to try?" He held the cigarette and looked at me, his deep voice giving me an invisible temptation. Usually, I found his smoking look very charming.

"Give me one," I said.

He was a bit surprised, then smiled and took a cigarette from the pack, lighting it, and handing it to me.

I took it, feeling a bit awkward, and mimicked his way of holding the cigarette between my fingers, bringing it to my lips.

I took a puff, and the smoke immediately rushed into my throat and nose, burning and choking me. I coughed so hard that tears almost came out. Ethan stood up and patted my back, laughing as he did so.

I felt embarrassed, sticking out my tongue as my throat felt uncomfortable.

After finally catching my breath, I handed the cigarette back to him and said, "I don't see what's so good about it. Why are you hooked?"

Ethan took the cigarette I had just smoked and sat back down in the chair.

He smiled, holding the cigarette in his mouth. After a moment of silence, he took it out and looked into the night, saying, "It's like loving someone. You can't really explain what's so good about it, but you just can't help yourself." I looked at his nearly perfect profile under the moonlight and said softly, "Are you talking about me?"

He turned to look at me for a moment and said, "What do you think?"

But I had never truly understood his heart.

Ethan finished his cigarette and stood up, saying to me, "Let's go back to bed."

We lay back in bed, with the two kids between us, and I could still smell the faint scent of tobacco on his breath.

Strangely, I didn't like the taste of the cigarette I tried earlier. But the smell of smoke from his mouth was oddly intoxicating.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, I was awakened by the sound of music. Ethan was no longer in bed.

I got up, opened the door, and followed the sound downstairs.

In the living room, the French doors were wide open, and I saw a figure in a white shirt standing in the yard, holding a guitar.

I remembered having a dream like this once, where he was sitting in the yard, playing the guitar and singing. And now, this scene almost overlapped with that dream.

I pinched my thigh hard.

The pain in my thigh made it clear I wasn't dreaming.

He stood in the dawn light, his back straight, fingers moving over the strings.

Step by step, I walked out of the living room, looking at his back, my eyes welling up with tears.

I still remembered clearly, a long time ago, I touched this guitar, and he got angry. At that time, I didn't know anything and felt really wronged. Oliver and Jason both said that because of Fiona, he didn't want to pick up the guitar again. But now, he was playing the guitar.

Maybe sensing someone behind him, he slowly turned around to face me.

After a slight pause, Ethan started playing again, and with his uniquely charming voice, he began to sing.

As soon as he started singing, my tears began to fall.

I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my hand.

I had really thought I would never have the chance to hear him play the guitar and sing again.

He slightly tilted his head back, singing this somewhat melancholic song, with tears faintly glistening in his eyes.

I thought Ethan must be very bitter inside, extremely bitter.

If I still couldn't understand him, what would he do?

As the last note fell, he looked at me, and I must have looked like a fool, crying.

He held the guitar, a bitter smile on his lips.

The sun was slowly rising behind him, his figure bathed in the morning light.

A man in his early thirties, wearing a white shirt and holding a guitar, at this moment looked like a young man in his prime, with a handsome appearance and a sentimental soul.

I ran over, tears streaming down my face, and hugged him, burying my face in his chest.

"I'm sorry!"

He slung the guitar over his back, lifted my face, his eyes moist, and asked me with a smile.

"Did you like it?"

I nodded.

He looked into my eyes, his Adam's apple moving, and said hoarsely, "If you like it, I'm willing to sing for you."

At this moment, my ears became exceptionally sensitive. Every word he said moved me, making my nose tingle and my eyes well up.

"I've always liked a band, liked them for many years. They're called The Thorn Birds Band."

He kissed me, moved, and I felt something warm flow onto my face.

His lips trembled, and there was a bitter taste in our lingering kiss.

After the kiss ended, we stood side by side in the yard, watching the sunrise.

"Why did your band call itself The Thorn Birds Band? What kind of bird is that?"

Ethan put the guitar aside, hugged me, and gently stroked my shoulder with his fingers.

"The Thorn Birds Band, they fly continuously throughout their lives. When they are about to die, they find a thorn bush, impale themselves on the longest thorn, and sing one last beautiful song. That's why they're called The Thorn Birds Band." I didn't expect there to be such a bird in the world. I was shocked and felt that the name was too tragic.

"Sir, Ma'am! Look!"

Luna's excited voice suddenly came from the living room.