Looking into the deep, dark light in his eyes, a chill ran down Zoe Lancaster’s spine. An indescribable sense of self-deprecation surfaced in her gaze. She stared at him unblinking. Surprisingly, she still had it in her to smile, though the curve of her lips was exceptionally jarring.
Having just suffered a high fever, Zoe didn’t have the strength to push him away. She stopped struggling, her voice flat. "Mr. Hawthorne, are you planning to keep me as your mistress from now on? Playing the tyrant?"
A discarded ex-wife, suddenly transformed into a lowly lover?
"Don’t you love money? How much is enough?" Simon Hawthorne asked indifferently, yet his words were sharp, bordering on outright humiliation.
She had said it herself—she only loved his money. What dignity was left for a woman who only cared about cash?
Her expression didn’t change much. She was still smiling. "Could it be that you’re addicted to me?"
Although Zoe’s voice was soft and slow, a closer listen revealed a sharpness that could easily draw blood.
Simon stared at her, his thumb stroking her carotid artery. He remained dangerously silent.
"Simon, by doing this, you’ll end up with nothing." She closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore the hand resting on her neck. "If you truly love Peyton Joyce, we shouldn’t have any further entanglements, let alone drag things out. When it’s time to part, neither of us should look back. Just stay dutifully by your golden girl’s side. Don’t do something you’ll regret and drag innocent bystanders into it, turning them into collateral damage for your romance."
Back then, the only reason Simon had set his sights on her was because she played the violin in a style strikingly similar to Peyton. That was what had caught his attention, ultimately sparking the disastrous chain of events that followed.
To put it bluntly, she was nothing more than a cheap stand-in for him to project his longing onto. No, even a stand-in might have been treated better than her.
He pinched her chin with a moderate amount of force. His gaze swept over every nuance of her expression from top to bottom, so blunt it was almost offensive. His lips were pressed into a somewhat gloomy line. "Evie, when it comes to us, you don’t get the final say."
He released her.
Zoe’s eyelashes fluttered. She suddenly asked, "You’re so fixated on me. Are you in love with me?"
This time, she was met with a prolonged silence. It was as if he disdained answering such a naively romantic question.
She didn’t press the issue, nor did she have the energy to. Her body was incredibly weak, and her head was spinning. Before long, she leaned against the sofa and drifted off to sleep.
Simon cast a faint, sidelong glance at her. After a long while, he draped a blanket over her, his voice so soft it was almost ethereal. "Stupid woman."
The plane landed.
Stepping out into Portellis’s subtropical climate, a wave of damp heat washed over them.
The hospital where Wyatt Sutton stayed was the top private medical facility in Portellis. They employed numerous world-class surgical experts from abroad. Whether it was medical treatment or patient service, everything was top-tier, ensuring the best possible care. Its only flaw was the exorbitant cost.
The caregivers here were fluent in multiple languages and divided into various tiers. Zoe had hired a full-time, long-term caregiver for her mother, which naturally came with the highest price tag. The cost of living in Portellis was already outrageously high, but when it came to her mother’s health, Zoe wanted to provide her with the absolute best.
She didn’t delay and headed straight for the hospital. She used to come here every winter and summer vacation. It was only after she got married and started working that her visits became less frequent, as she was busy trying to save up enough money for the medical bills.
Upon arriving at the ward, she happened to bump into the caregiver walking out. The woman hesitated for a moment upon seeing Zoe before recognizing her. "Miss Lancaster? Is it really you? Why do you look so haggard? I almost didn’t recognize you."
In her memory, Zoe was an unparalleled beauty, unlike anyone she had ever met. She was stunningly radiant, flamboyant, and vibrant. She was worldly-wise yet untainted, possessing a unique aura. Her appearance was strikingly, almost aggressively glamorous, but her inner self was noble and aloof, guarding her own pure sanctuary.
Yet, after just two years apart, even though her features hadn’t changed, the dazzling light that once radiated from this young woman had subtly faded. It was enough to make anyone sigh in inexplicable sorrow.
Zoe smiled faintly. "I’ve probably just lost some weight. Where is my mom?"
"She’s sleeping!" the caregiver quickly replied. "Go on in and see her."
Zoe nodded and gently pushed the door open to enter.
Ever since Simon came upstairs, he had been standing in the smoking area. Through the glass, he watched the woman exchange pleasantries with the caregiver. He knew full well that Zoe hadn’t seen her mother in a long time and must have a lot to say. He didn’t want to intrude.
Only when his cigarette burned down to the filter did he stroll over to the door of the ward. This was a convalescent area with a pleasant environment, overlooking a park below. He walked to the window and took in his surroundings. The sky was clear, the air fresh, and even the breeze felt gentle. This place was exactly the same as it was in his memories.
His pupils shifted slightly, as if he were recalling some bygone event. His cold indifference was somewhat diluted, replaced by an emotion deep and intense.
After an unknown amount of time, he turned and strode toward the ward door. The faint sound of a woman’s low sobbing drifted out. His eyes flickered. His hand, which was about to grasp the doorknob, hovered in midair for a moment before slowly curling into a tight fist.
Sitting by the bed, Zoe looked at the emaciated Wyatt Sutton. She gently held her mother’s withered hand, feeling the warmth radiating from it. Only then did she feel like she still had a home to return to in this world, a place where she could still find support.
"Mom, I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to visit you often." She pressed the back of Wyatt’s hand against her cheek, nuzzling it dependently. "Have you forgotten me again? I’m a little mad about it, but that’s okay. I’ll stay right by your side from now on. You’re bound to remember your precious daughter eventually."
She still had so much hope left in her. Her children, her mother. Only in front of her mother could she allow herself to be vulnerable without her guard up.
Unable to hold back the countless grievances she had accumulated over so long, her eyes stung fiercely. Tears fell one after another onto the white bedsheets as she frantically wiped them away. "I’m doing great. I just missed you too much, Mom. I really did."
Pea-sized tears splashed onto the back of Wyatt’s hand. Her eyelids twitched, and she groggily opened her eyes. Seeing the young woman before her, she instinctively tried to pull her hand back, yet she inexplicably couldn’t bear to part with the warmth. "Darling, who are you? Why are you crying?"
She shifted slightly and reached out to wipe the tears from Zoe’s cheeks. "Why are you so heartbroken? Did someone wrong you? Oh, I shouldn’t be calling you ’darling.’ Otherwise, my jealous little girl will be unhappy."
Watching her mother’s gentle expression, Zoe bit her lip hard, her tears falling even faster. "Little girl? Who is that?"
Wyatt smiled. "My little darling, my daughter. She’s twelve this year, and her birthday is coming up soon. She’s incredibly beautiful and adorable. Let me show you her photo."
As she spoke, she began fumbling around, trying to find something. But after a moment, she paused. A look of confusion washed over her face, as if she had already forgotten what she was about to do. She looked at Zoe again. "Little girl, who are you?"
Her mother’s memory was always a jumbled mess. She would forget what had happened just a second prior.
Zoe was already used to it. She grasped Wyatt’s hand and forced herself to smile. "I’m—"
"You look so much like my darling..." Wyatt’s eyes widened. "Are you my little girl?"
Zoe hadn’t expected her to suddenly recognize her. She froze for a moment. Then, unable to hold it in any longer, she threw herself into Wyatt’s arms, sobbing freely. "Mom, I missed you so much. Can you give me a hug? Mom, please don’t forget me. Mom, I’m so tired..."