Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 468: And he died with that promise

Kathrine’s eyes drifted to the woman and the baby in the photograph.

"They look like a happy family," she murmured, feeling a painful twitch in her chest.

"They were," Gwen said quietly. "George loved his wife and son dearly. But one accusation cost him everything. I heard he was accused of kidnapping his employer’s daughter... and that the girl herself agreed with it."

Gwen spoke without realizing that the girl she was referring to was standing right in front of her.

Kathrine felt tears well in her eyes. Her throat tightened as the weight of the truth crushed down on her.

She had destroyed them.

A beautiful family—gone because of her.

"Gwen?"

An elderly voice suddenly called from upstairs.

Everyone turned.

Cynthia was slowly making her way down the stairs, one hand gripping the railing for support.

"Grandma!" Gwen hurried over. "Why didn’t you call me? You shouldn’t be walking alone."

"I’m fine," Cynthia replied softly as Gwen guided her toward the couch. Her tired eyes lifted to Ethan. "You must be Ethan."

"Yes, ma’am," he said, standing up respectfully.

"Please, sit," she said gently. "I was curious about you, even after asking Gwen to speak with you first."

Then Cynthia’s gaze shifted to Kathrine.

"And who is this young lady?" she asked.

Kathrine swallowed hard, forcing a small smile through the tears threatening to fall.

"My name is Kathrine... Kathrine Bennett."

The change in Cynthia was instant. Her face drained of color.

"Kathrine Bennett?" she repeated slowly. "The same Kathrine Bennett whom George was accused of kidnapping?" Her voice trembled.

Kathrine lowered her gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "Yes."

Cynthia’s expression hardened, grief and anger flashing across her wrinkled features.

"So you are her," Gwen who was equally shocked said bitterly. "I never imagined you would be so shameless as to come here, looking for George’s family—after what your family did to them. After making sure they could never live in peace again."

The words struck like knives.

Memories flooding back—of Gwen being seventeen, of watching George’s family become targets of whispers, insults, and cruelty after he was detained. Of seeing them isolated, humiliated, and eventually driven away.

Tears streamed down Kathrine’s face. She couldn’t breathe as the words felt too heavy for her to carry.

She turned suddenly and ran for the door. "I’m sorry—" her voice broke, the words barely audible as she fled the house.

"Kathrine!" Ethan called, rushing after her.

The door slammed shut behind them. Inside, silence filled the room.

Cynthia sank back into the couch, her hands trembling while Gwen stared at the closed door, her heart heavy.

***

[Outside]

Kathrine didn’t remember how she reached the front yard.

The air outside felt colder, heavier, as if it pressed against her lungs. Her vision blurred, tears spilling freely now as she stumbled down the porch steps and onto the pavement.

Her chest hurt.

Not a dull ache—but a sharp, unbearable pain that made it hard to breathe.

She had destroyed them.

A family. A man who had loved his wife and child. A life that had nothing to do with her, yet had been ruined because of her existence.

"Kathrine!" Ethan’s voice broke through the haze.

She didn’t stop.

Her legs carried her blindly down the street, hands shaking, heart pounding like it wanted to tear itself apart. The image of George’s smile—so gentle in the photo—kept replaying in her mind.

He was happy.

And she had been the reason he lost everything.

Ethan caught up to her near the corner, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly.

"Kathrine, stop. Please."

She tried to pull away, but her strength gave out. The moment he turned her toward him, she collapsed against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I didn’t know," Kathrine cried, her voice breaking. "What went wrong, Ethan? Why am I being blamed for something I don’t even remember?"

Her hands trembled as she clutched at his coat, as if afraid she might fall apart if she let go.

"That man in the photo... he feels familiar," she continued shakily. "But I can’t remember him. I can’t remember anything. And yet everything they suffered because of me—it’s killing me inside. I feel like the culprit and the victim at the same time."

Her breathing grew uneven, panic rising with every word.

"It’s like I’m standing in someone else’s memories, Ethan. Everyone keeps telling me I did these things, but they don’t feel like mine. What is happening to me? Why can’t I remember the truth?"

Gwen’s words echoed in her mind—one accusation cost him everything—over and over, refusing to fade.

Ethan felt his chest tighten as he watched her unravel.

He pulled her into his arms without another word, holding her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head.

"Hey," he whispered. "Look at me. You’re here. You’re safe."

She tried to speak, but her voice broke into sobs instead.

"Breathe with me, Kathrine. Slowly," he said, his tone steady despite the storm inside him. "In... and out. That’s it."

Her body trembled violently at first, but gradually her breathing began to follow his rhythm.

Ethan knew she was pushing herself too hard, trying to force memories that might not even be ready to surface. And he was terrified of what it might do to her if she kept tearing at wounds she didn’t fully understand.

"I didn’t do anything, Ethan," she whispered, desperate. "I swear. I never meant to hurt anyone."

"I know," he replied instantly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "I believe you."

She stared at him, as if searching for doubt.

"You don’t have to convince me," he said softly. "You’re not lying to me. You’re confused. There’s a difference."

"But someone lost everything because of me," she said, her voice hollow. "A family was destroyed. Even if I don’t remember... how do I live with that?"

Ethan rested his forehead against hers.

"You live by finding the truth. Not the version people forced on you, but your truth," he said. "And until then, you stop blaming yourself for things you don’t fully understand."

Her lips quivered. "What if the truth is ugly?"

"Then we face it together," he answered without hesitation.

Silence wrapped around them, broken only by the sound of her quiet sobs.

Ethan brushed her hair back gently. "You’re not a monster, Kathrine. You’re a person with missing pieces. That doesn’t make you guilty—it makes you human."

She closed her eyes, leaning into him. She wanted to believe in everything he said and somewhere it worked until a voice cut through.

"George used to say he would forever swear loyalty to the people he loved," a trembling voice said behind them.

"And he died with that promise."

Kathrine froze.

She slowly pulled away from Ethan and turned around.

Cynthia was standing a few steps away, her frail figure wrapped in a thin shawl. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, not of anger this time—but of deep, aching affection.