Harry placed an order for eight million, paying for someone to take the blame. He bribed people in prison to torture himself, just like Hattie was tortured before, making sure to leave him alive but barely.
Four million for arranging an attack, and the remaining four million for treatment.
No one knew that Harry had made this order. When he was being stomped on and eating trash in prison, he thought that someone from the outside had arranged for this punishment.
Micah inquired about Harry’s situation in prison, sitting on the couch next to Hattie and saying, “I heard Harry is having a hard time in there.”
In mid-August, the television was on in the living room, and Hattie lay slouched on the soft couch, holding a cushion in her arms and two walnuts in her right hand.
When Micah mentioned this, her hand paused, holding the walnuts. “How bad is it?”
“He’s holding a steamed bun in his hand, with no oil in the food,” Micah replied. Hattie’s reaction was nonchalant. Having a steamed bun to eat was good enough, considering she used to eat spoiled food and go hungry if there was none.
“Everyone outside is saying that he offended someone, that’s why he’s getting beaten up in there. I’m afraid he won’t survive for long,” Micah said.
“Have you heard this saying?” Hattie asked.
“What saying?”
“Calamity lasts for a thousand years; living to seventy or eighty years should be possible for him.”
“Forget it, I won’t mention him anymore,” Micah said, reaching out to hold Hattie’s right hand, with rings on their ring fingers.
After Harry had undergone surgery and was out of danger, the two of them went abroad, flying to Malta, where they got married.
In a church, they made solemn vows, promising that only death could separate them-a promise with legal implications.
At the time, Micah had just mentioned taking her out for some fresh air, but little did she know that he had “tricked” her into going to Malta, with everything prepared, and they got married on the spot.
Hattie had always been afraid of not living for long, and after Micah expressed his feelings, she decided to be with him. However, she still didn’t dare to take the step of marrying him.
What if she died early? If Micah met someone he liked, would that person be put off by the fact that he had been married before and widowed?
She was thinking too much, perhaps due to the constant cycle of gain and loss, Hattie always seemed so unsettled.
When she was in the hospital, many people said she was strong and powerful, but in reality, she was not. She was just like her name, so tiny and insignificant.
Micah’s actions reassured her not to overthink, giving her a sense of security, constantly proving to her that he loved her.
Before going to prison, Micah visited her there, with red eyes and no unnecessary words, only telling her that he would wait for her.
When they exchanged rings in front of everyone on one knee, Micah said only one sentence, “I finally waited for you.”
If Hattie married him and something unfortunate happened someday, and she left him early, he wouldn’t remarry. He wouldn’t love another person again in his life.
Hattie was always the only one.
How could the girl he had waited for so long be swayed by another woman?
Even though they had obtained their marriage certificate, they had not yet had a wedding. Mr. and Mrs. Baker were delighted to hear about Micah and Hattie’s marriage and were preparing for a wedding.
Hattie refused, though, saying that a wedding was not important to her, and she was also worried that a big wedding would reveal to Harry that she hadn’t died.
Naturally, the Baker family respected Hattie’s decision and simply enjoyed a family dinner.
On the wall, Mr. and Mrs. Baker’s wedding photo hung, and after dinner, Mrs. Baker brought out a pile of photo albums and placed them on the floor for Hattie to look through.
Mrs. Baker loved taking photos, documenting everything. The pile brought out was almost all Micah-almost like a record of his growth.
After washing the dishes and coming out of the kitchen, Micah watched Hattie flipping through the photos, then joined her on the floor, sitting behind her and hugging her naturally. Her back, which had felt a little cold, suddenly warmed up as soon as he held her.
“My mom loves taking photos. These are just ten percent of what she’s got. There’s a whole room dedicated to photo albums,” Micah said.
“I’ll take my time to look through them,” Hattie replied.
“There’s actually not much to see.” He rested his chin gently on her shoulder, looking at the photo of himself in a diaper with some display of embarrassment.
“I wonder if it’s hereditary from your mom, your love for photography.”
“She just loves taking photos, with no technical skill involved. She takes a photo, develops it, puts it in an album right away, and says that looking through photo albums can bring people closer.”
When Hattie turned the page, her hand paused; it was a picture of Elisa, Elisa as a child.
“Elisa stayed with us for a while when she was little, just like my sister. It’s just that I didn’t take my big brother responsibilities seriously and couldn’t protect her.”
“You’ve already done well enough.” Thinking of Elisa always brought Aoife to mind, and she wanted to visit her grave to say a lot of things to her.
Mrs. Baker came out of the bathroom just in time to see Hattie looking at the page with Elisa’s photo. Her eyes were clouded with discomfort. It had been too long, and if they didn’t look through these photos often, she would have forgotten what Elisa looked like.
“I still remember that Elisa loved the chicken wings I made.”
Talking about Elisa inevitably brought back painful memories, and the previously pleasant atmosphere turned heavy.
“I’ve already had a wedding dress custom-made. Since Hattie doesn’t want a wedding, let’s take more wedding photos,” Mrs. Baker changed the subject. “It’s a pity for a woman to get married without wearing a wedding dress. We’ll take some photos and hang them on the wall later.”