Taming My Husband (English)

Chapter 7.1: Unconscious

With trembling hands, Daphne reached for the water and medicine on her table. She had just asked the dorm owner earlier to buy her some medicine. It was already her second day. She had told herself she’d only rest for a day. The owner had started to wonder, saying it was strange she hadn’t gone out. When Daphne said she wasn’t feeling well, the woman finally understood.

She shook her head and glanced at her laptop screen. A pop-up appeared—someone was calling. It was her friend. She didn’t answer, worried her friend might notice she was sick. Her friend was always honest with her mom. She had just sent a photo from a few days ago and said she was traveling, which is why she couldn’t answer.

She looked at her clock. It was nine in the morning in Bergen, and only three in the afternoon in the Philippines.

How was BK doing?She felt a little sad when she remembered his last message. He said he would be busy and might not have time to call. Talking to BK always made her feel less alone. Lately, she had gotten used to talking to him all the time. Even when they didn’t chat, she felt happy just knowing he was watching her through the camera in her room. It felt like he was still with her in Norway.

Wrapped in a thick blanket, she sat at the table by the window. The window was big, so she could clearly see the view outside, especially the lake. Sitting there always made her feel calm, whether it was morning or night.

The sun was shining, but she still couldn’t feel its warmth—it was that cold.

She had just sat down when someone knocked on the door. Still wrapped in the blanket, she stood up to open it.

It was Margaret, holding an envelope.

“A young man dropped this off for you,” she said, handing her the envelope.

Daphne couldn’t help but frown as she opened it. She had already seen her name written on it.

Before she could even check the contents, Margaret spoke again.

“Do you know him?” She showed her a photo of the man. Daphne stared at it. He looked unfamiliar. Maybe Asian, but also not quite. A mix.

“I don’t know him. What about his name? Did he tell you?”

“I didn’t even think to ask his name. Hmm, strange,” Margaret said with a chuckle. “Anyway, he seemed like a good guy.”

She just smiled. True, it was surprising Margaret didn’t ask—she was usually so nosy.

Before she left, Margaret gave her the photo she had secretly taken of the man.

Once alone, Daphne grabbed her laptop. She sent the photo to her messaging app and then searched for it on Google. The man resembled a lot of people. Some were foreigners. There were links, so she checked them one by one. The first she clicked was a f*******: profile with a similar-looking man. The caption was in Tagalog, which made her even more curious. She browsed through more photos. Eventually, she started to believe that the man who dropped off the envelope and the man in the profile were one and the same. But she still didn’t know him.

She closed the laptop and stared at the envelope.

Her lips parted slightly when she saw the familiar name on the front. She jumped up from her seat, the blanket falling off her shoulders as she forgot to hold on to it.

She examined the document carefully. It was all about her father—where he lived, and even had a photo.

She touched his cheek in the picture. The resemblance was undeniable. She had inherited his skin tone and eyes.

Even though she was still weak, she dressed quickly. Somehow, seeing that photo gave her energy. Margaret was surprised to see her up and about. She told her she was right—the man with the envelope did seem kind. He had given her a lead about her father.

She couldn’t help but be surprised when her ride dropped her off in front of a familiar house. She checked the address again. It looked the same. She had been to so many places that she couldn’t remember the exact one, but when she saw the big house, she realized she had already been there. Back then, only the maid had talked to her and said the owner wasn’t home. It was one of the places she had planned to return to.

It was a modern villa, and she pressed the doorbell with a camera. She was sure someone inside could see her. After a moment, a voice asked for her name and who she was looking for. It was a woman. The woman paused for a long time when Daphne gave her full name. The silence made Daphne feel uneasy.

After a short while, the door finally opened and a man in his 50s came out. Daphne held her envelope and bag tighter. She looked at him, and he looked back at her.

“H-Hi,” she said, not sure what to say.

The man gave a small smile. “Come in. Daphne, right?” he asked.

She nodded. He turned around, and she followed him. He led her to the garden, even telling the housemaid arranging flowers to leave them alone.

He pulled out a chair made of fine wood for her. The table looked expensive too.

“What can I do for you, Daphne?” he asked, now seated across from her.

She didn’t answer. She looked down, reached into her bag, and pulled out a worn photo of her mother. She placed it in front of him. He stared at it for a while before slowly taking it.

She saw his shoulders drop as he gently touched the photo.

“H-how is she?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. He kept his eyes on the photo.

No doubt—this was her father. Why else would he ask about her mother?

“Do you know who I am?” she asked softly.

“When I saw you on the monitor, I told myself, you must be my flesh and blood,” he said directly. She closed her eyes for a moment.

So he knew. But he didn’t seem happy to see her. This wasn’t how she imagined their meeting. She thought he’d hug her, smile—be glad to finally meet her. That’s what she had hoped for.

“I’m sorry, Daphne. It was a mistake,” he said, and she frowned.

What did he mean by mistake?

Her fists clenched when he said his relationship with her mother had been a mistake. He had been tempted by her beauty, and it led to a sin. He even admitted he already had a family before she was born.

She began to tremble—not just from the cold anymore. It felt like her illness had returned. Her body shook from what she heard. Especially when he said she had traveled all that way for nothing. Her mother already knew why he wasn’t in their lives. She wanted to argue. Maybe her mom wanted her to meet her real father—hoping he still cared. But the truth was the opposite. He had never thought of her. He didn’t need her. He already had a family.

She didn’t let him finish. She stood up and rushed out. She heard him call after her, but she didn’t look back.

Maybe coming to Norway had been a mistake. But why hadn’t her mother stopped her? Why hadn’t she told her the truth—that her father had another family?

She felt hurt—for her mother. No wonder her mother once told her not to trust men. That they play games. No wonder she never saw her mother fall in love again. Maybe she had given up. Maybe she was too scared to be hurt again.

Daphne did nothing but walk. She ignored the pain in her joints and the cold she felt. She didn’t even know where she was going.

She didn’t realize how far she had walked. Her knees were weak. Hunger added to it. She hadn’t eaten earlier. She didn’t feel like it, and now she had left without a plan.

People bumped into her, and she almost fell several times.

She had to hold onto a wall as she felt dizzy. She leaned on it for support. Her vision spun. She wanted to grip the wall tighter but had no strength. Her hand slipped, and darkness swallowed her. But before she hit the ground, she felt someone catch her.