CHAPTER 429: CHAPTER 429 I DON’T CARE

After spending days in their new house, wrapped in warmth and passion, Lilith and Alexander finally decided it was time to return to the rhythm of regular life. But they weren’t returning as ordinary people—they were now husband and wife, and with their honeymoon plans tucked secretly between playful glances and whispered promises, life suddenly felt full again.

Still, the silence in the house, the too-clean counters and empty hallways, made Lilith feel uneasy. She missed Rose. The sound of her giggles, the way she’d run into her room without knocking, and how she’d drag her out just to show off some silly school drawing—it all made the manor feel like home.

So they returned.

That evening, the golden sunlight filtered in through the long windows of Rose Manor. The front door creaked open, and Rose’s voice rang out first as she skipped into the hall, her school bag bouncing. "Sister Lilith! Brotheeeerrr!"

She ran to them, arms outstretched—Lilith hugged her tightly while Alexander ruffled her hair with a rare, soft smile.

They all settled in the cozy living room . Rose was chatting nonstop, telling stories about her teacher’s dog and how she got full marks on her language subject. Everything felt peaceful...

Until the doorbell rang and the maid opened the door.

Lilith blinked, confused, and slowly stood up from the couch. Her eyes landed on two figures walking in—her father, Lennox and beside him, her mother, Daisy, whose face looked even paler than usual.

Lilith’s heart dropped as her gaze shifted to the thick envelope her father held in his hand. There was no warmth in his expression. His eyes weren’t on her, but on Alexander—no, not Alexander. Her husband. Her human doll.

Something was wrong.

"Dad?" she said cautiously. "Mom? What’s going on?"

Lennox stepped forward, his jaw tight. He placed the file on the table, and the words that came next knocked the breath from the room.

"DID."

Just one word.

But it shattered the ease of the moment like glass cracking under pressure.

Lilith’s body went still. Her eyes slowly darted to Alexander, whose entire frame had tensed. She felt his hand stiffen beside her. His breath changed—shallow, almost caught.

Rose looked confused, glancing between the adults. "DID? What’s that?" she asked, her voice innocent.

Alexander was already standing up. "Rose," he said firmly, his voice deeper than usual. "Go back to your room."

"But... I want to stay with you guys."

"Rose," Lilith said softly but clearly. "Please. Go."

Rose looked at her, then at Alexander, hesitated for a second longer, and slowly nodded. She picked up her pink school bag and walked away, her footsteps echoing up the stairs.

Once she was gone, silence settled like fog in the room.

Lennox opened the file. Pages filled with medical terms, evaluation reports, photos—proof.

"I didn’t want to believe it," he began, his voice low, controlled. "But we had to know the truth. After observing and running checks..." He turned the file toward Lilith. "This is real. He’s not just moody or complex, Lilith. Your husband has Dissociative Identity Disorder."

Lilith stayed silent for a moment. Her fingers curled into Alexander’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I know," she said softly.

Lennox’s brows drew together. "You knew?"

"Yes," Lilith said again. "And I don’t care."

Alexander turned to her, his eyes uncertain. A flicker of something—fear, disbelief—passed through his expression.

"I don’t care how many sides he has," Lilith continued. "Ray. Gray. Alexander... they are all him. And I love all of them."

Daisy was quiet, her eyes shining with tears. "Sweetheart... we’re just worried. This kind of illness... it’s not simple. There’s risk. Emotional instability. Memory gaps. You’re not just a wife now, you’re living with three versions of one man."

"I know that," Lilith said, her voice calm, but her chest was tightening.

Alexander closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.

"And I choose him," Lilith added. "Over and over again. No matter how many versions he becomes."

Lennox looked at his daughter, at the fierce love blazing in her eyes, and for a long moment, he said nothing.

"What about the inner world collapse?" Lennox asked suddenly, his voice sharp and clear. His cold gaze fixed on Alexander. "I received information that he was in a coma for months... You might not care, Lilith, but what about the future? What about your children?"

Lilith’s breath caught in her throat.

Lennox pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to control his growing frustration. His other hand gripped the back of the couch. "Once you’re married, it’s not just about love. It’s about responsibility, trust, and reliability. What will you do when he falls into another coma again? How will you raise a child alone while your husband’s mind collapses?" His voice was calm, but the weight in his words was heavy. "You’re strong, Lilith, I know that. But strength doesn’t mean carrying everything on your own."

There was a thick silence. Even the walls of Rose Manor seemed to hold their breath.

"I spoke with a specialist," Lennox added, his tone firm. "A doctor who has experience with hypnosis and deep therapy specifically for DID. This is not just about switching personalities anymore. It’s more serious than you think. There’s more at stake—neurological damage, identity fragmentation, memory loss, and depression. And I’m not saying this to break your marriage. Sebastian," his voice softened slightly, "you’re my son-in-law now. But I have to think about my daughter’s future. And yours."

Alexander sat quietly, his hands resting on his lap, but they were trembling faintly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Lennox. That word—coma—felt like a heavy stone in his chest.

He remembered those black months. Where he had no control, no memories. Just a deep, suffocating silence.

The thought of putting Lilith through that again... made his chest ache.

He clenched his jaw. His lips parted to say something—but he couldn’t. No words came out. He felt helpless.

And then—

"I’ll support you in anything," Lilith said softly. Her voice was gentle but full of steel. She reached out and took his hand in both of hers, holding it tightly. Her touch was warm. Steady. Fierce. "I don’t care about the risks," she said, looking into his eyes. "I don’t care about the parts that are broken. I love all of you. Ray, Gray, Alexander. I’ve seen all of you, and I’ve fallen for every version."