Chapter 476 Bittersweet Endings: The Unique Beauty of Frank and Juniper's Regret
In the hotel corridor, another pair of former lovers crossed paths.
Juniper and Frank met in the atrium, years having transformed him into a more mature man whose every gesture spoke of decisive authority. Only when looking at Juniper did a flicker of genuine emotion cross his face.
"Juniper, it's been a long time," Frank said.
Such pleasantries were unusual for him, but between them, anything beyond small talk risked crossing boundaries neither dared to acknowledge.
Brent had been gone for several years now. Frank's own marriage had ended long ago. No obstacles remained, and the entire Cavendish empire now rested in his hands. Since Juniper's return to Evergreen City, he had deliberately placed himself in her orbit, even asking Grace to convey his feelings. Every year on Juniper's birthday, he sent carefully chosen gifts.
But she had never responded.
Tonight, he wasn't willing to miss another opportunity. They weren't young anymore—time was no longer a luxury they could afford to waste. He had waited here specifically for her.
The autumn night enveloped them as they faced each other.
After a moment, Juniper smiled faintly. "Yes, it has been a long time."
Her smile was composed, seemingly untouched by past regrets. Only the fine lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed that she was no longer young, though her vibrant presence remained as captivating as ever.
He recalled standing behind her years ago, whispering impulsively, "If you had been my fiancée instead, I would have been overjoyed."
Years had passed, and both had weathered life's storms.
Frank sensed her coolness, her subtle rejection. A wise man would have stopped there, preserving his dignity. But after waiting so long, how could he let such a rare opportunity slip away?
With a trembling voice, Frank confessed, "Juniper, we're not getting any younger. I won't hide my feelings anymore. I want to spend my future with you."
The stars and moon hung overhead in the cool night air.
Juniper pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
After a pause, she looked down and said softly, "Yes, we're not young anymore. But Frank, we have no future together. How could we? I'm past childbearing age, my body isn't what it once was. Find a younger woman, marry her, have children. What we had is over. There was hurt, there were regrets, but Brent healed all of that. Looking back on my life, I have no regrets."
"All the suffering I endured before—if it was the price for those few years with Brent, I'd pay it gladly. I truly loved him."
The moonlight cast a cool glow over them.
Having spoken, Juniper smiled gently, clearly thinking of her husband.
Her marriage to Brent had never been an act of spite. He had cherished her completely, and those years with him had been her entire world. His grace, gentleness, and generosity had deeply moved her, showing her that beyond passion, a man and woman could share profound trust. She never worried about Brent betraying her or breaking her heart.
Until he simply never came home again.
Tears glistened in Juniper's eyes, but they were for her departed husband.
A black town car pulled up beside them. The back door opened to reveal Julia's youthful face. She glanced at Frank before saying sweetly, "Mom, let's go home."
Juniper gave Frank one last look.
That look contained volumes—a final severing of all ties to the past.
She had a family.
Though Brent was gone, he had left Julia in her care. She might not have biological children, but she had her beloved's child.
The luxury car pulled away smoothly.
Frank remained standing there.
He replayed Juniper's words, revisiting their past again and again until finally admitting the truth to himself. What he couldn't let go of all these years wasn't her—it was his own weakness, his failure to fight for her when it mattered. His inability to stand up for what they had.
She had smiled and moved on, but her tears from long ago remained etched in his heart, impossible to erase or replace.
The night breeze swept past him.
A single crystalline tear slowly rolled down his cheek.
Late that night at the Moore Mansion, Matthew sat quietly in his study, still disturbed by the evening's events. Sarah had allowed a servant to sit in the place of honor and receive the wedding toast, while he, her biological father, had been thoroughly humiliated.
He couldn't help feeling melancholy.
He remembered the day he had formally acknowledged her as his daughter—a celebration as grand as tonight's wedding. The entire Moore Mansion had been decorated with beautiful lanterns.
Yes, those lanterns had been exquisite.
Matthew called for Aaron and casually mentioned wanting to see one of the crystal lanterns again.
Aaron hesitated.
Later, as he brought Matthew tea, he gently reminded him, "You've forgotten, sir. All the lanterns in the house were shattered during that incident."
Matthew took a moment to process this. "Broken? Not even one remains?"
Aaron remained silent.
Matthew didn't press further. He simply sat there, feeling the weight of his solitude.
With time, loneliness had finally caught up to him.
Ever since what happened with Sarah, Nicholas had been quietly at odds with him for years. Vaughn and his wife had grown distant as well. And Hestia—well, she was better left unmentioned.
Matthew was sinking deeper into his thoughts when a servant hurried in, breathless: "Mr. Isaac Moore has a fever again!"
Matthew snapped out of his melancholy, frowning slightly. "Another fever? Where is his mother?"
The servant hesitated.
Finally, gathering courage, he said, "She's out socializing. Playing cards with wealthy ladies, I believe."
Matthew's expression darkened.
Since Nicholas's incident, Hestia was constantly out socializing—cards today, dancing tomorrow. He'd heard the rumors about her, of course, but had chosen to ignore them.
By 2:30 AM, after extensive testing, Isaac was preliminarily diagnosed with acute blood disease. The best treatment option was a bone marrow transplant. The doctor explained, "This could be genetic, especially considering Mr. Nicholas Moore's history with a similar condition."
Matthew, who had weathered countless storms in his life, collapsed onto a bench in the hallway, unable to stand.
The night air chilled him to the bone.
From a distance came a woman's voice, "Isaac, Isaac!"
It was Hestia.
She arrived wearing an elegant dress, her hair disheveled, her hairline glistening with perspiration. One glance was enough to guess what kind of evening she'd had.
Matthew didn't confront her about it.
At this moment, the Moore family needed to unite to find a way to cure Isaac's illness. He believed that among all the family members, they would surely find a suitable bone marrow donor.
Before he could speak, Hestia said, "When Nicholas was sick, they used Sarah's bone marrow. Hers should work. If not, there's Jacob, and—"
Isabella cut in, her voice breaking, "Sarah is pregnant!"
Hestia cried out, "So what if she's pregnant? Her life came from you! Not just bone marrow—she should give a rib if necessary!"
Isabella stared in disbelief. "Hestia, how can you be so cruel?"
Hestia laughed coldly. "For my son? How is that cruelty?"
Isabella disagreed.
She looked to Matthew, but he showed no sign of objection.
Isabella gasped: "Dad, Sarah is carrying a child! And Jacob is only seven years old."
The harsh hospital lights illuminated Matthew's face, revealing an unusually cold expression.
As dawn broke, Matthew returned to the Moore Mansion and retreated to his study.
Sitting behind his desk, he opened a drawer and took out a matching report he had kept for years.
It confirmed that he and Nicholas were compatible for a bone marrow transplant—a chance to treat the illness that had haunted them for so long.
But how could he risk having his bone marrow extracted? What if it damaged his health or affected his work? He couldn't allow anything to jeopardize his future—not even Nicholas.
He had watched Nicholas waste away, clinging to life, until Sarah was found to be a matching bone marrow donor.
In the lamplight, Matthew's face remained cold and unreadable.
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