Chapter 593 Does it hurt?
Harper showed up outside the convention hall where Francis worked.
Victor was already there, waiting for her.
As soon as they met, Harper cut to the chase, "Victor, we've known each other for years. Can you be straight with me?"
Victor was caught off guard, thinking Harper had found out about Francis donating a ton of blood.
He hesitated. The last time he spilled the beans, Francis had shipped him off to some remote mining site for almost half a year.
Remembering those rough days, Victor frowned, "Ms. Sackler, go ahead and ask."
Harper said, "I want to know what's really going on with Mr. Getty's leg."
Victor was stunned for a couple of seconds.
Her question meant she didn't know the real story behind his injury.
That meant he could tell her!
Victor looked pained, "Mr. Getty was diagnosed by experts from Emerald Isle as incurable. For the rest of his life, he'll need crutches and a wheelchair."
"Incurable?" Harper echoed in shock.
Victor nodded.
Harper couldn't wrap her head around it. How could this be?
Wasn't it said that Francis's leg would slowly get better with surgery?
And before she had the baby, Harper had seen him standing.
Harper grabbed Victor's arm, speaking in a rush, "The night you all came to see Jasper, wasn't Francis able to stand?"
She remembered that night clearly. Francis had stood for a bit without any crutches.
Victor thought back to that night and explained, "That night, Mr. Getty's crutch had oil on the bottom, so I took it to get it fixed. He could stand for a bit but couldn't walk much."
Harper also remembered that after that night, Francis was always using crutches.
Hearing all this, Harper felt completely crushed. How could this be?
Francis would never be able to ditch his crutches for the rest of his life.
Harper didn't even know how she made it inside, feeling dazed, like she blinked and was already in Francis's office.
She didn't even know if she had knocked or just barged in.
Francis was lying on the floor, looking like he had fallen while trying to pick up scattered documents from his desk.
Next to his office chair was a specially made black wheelchair.
In an instant, it felt like all the blood in her body rushed to her head. Harper felt like she had turned into stone, completely frozen.
Francis looked up at her calmly.
Harper couldn't hold back anymore and quickly ran over to help him. Before she could touch him, Francis pulled his arm back and said softly, "I got this."
Harper's hand froze, her face stiffening.
Francis lowered his eyes slightly, using his elbow to push against the floor, then hooked the chair leg with one hand, grabbed the armrest, and pushed himself up into the chair.
He was skilled, clearly showing he had done it many times.
Even though Francis moved quickly, Harper still saw that one of his legs was clearly limp.
Harper's nose stung, and she didn't know what to say.
Seeing her expression, Francis frowned and asked, "Did Victor spill something he shouldn't have?"
Harper shook her head, still in a daze, "No, he didn't say anything."
Francis wasn't buying it. Victor had been acting up lately, saying he understood but still doing whatever he wanted.
Seeing Harper's reaction, Francis knew Victor must've let something slip.
Looked like that stint in the remote area hadn't taught Victor enough caution. He still needed more "training."
Harper didn't admit to hearing it from Victor, and Francis didn't push it. He just said, "My leg's fine, not as bad as it looks."
Hearing this, Harper felt like Francis was just calmly covering up the truth.
She suddenly felt a wave of self-loathing. Francis must've taken a long time to accept that he couldn't walk.
This always proud and excellent man had to accept becoming a cripple.
The process of breaking and rebuilding his self-esteem must've been incredibly tough and painful.
And through all those moments, Francis had endured it alone.
Thinking about how she had avoided and pushed him away out of fear of dragging him down, Harper felt a sharp pain in her heart, like an invisible hand was squeezing it.
She suddenly hugged him tightly, her tears soaking through Francis's suit, and asked in a low voice, "Francis, does it hurt?"
Only the two of them understood that this question was about his heart, not his physical pain.
Francis had endured physical pain far worse than this, but the pain in his heart, which Harper deeply understood, was much harder to heal.
Francis looked down at her and softly comforted, "It doesn't hurt anymore."
But Harper felt a deep ache in her heart, as if it was being torn apart.
Harper had always thought Francis was invincible, someone to be admired, but she never imagined he could become flawed.
She hugged him tightly, with a strength she had never used before.
At this moment, she realized she truly loved him deeply. All her efforts to leave him were easily shattered.
The mere thought of Francis facing those skeptical stares alone filled her with unbearable heartache.
Harper buried her head in Francis's chest, crying uncontrollably. She wanted to tell him, right now, she still loved him.
"Francis," Harper choked out.
At that moment, someone knocked on the conference room door.
When Harper had entered, she hadn't closed it properly, so a light knock opened it.
A secretary walked in, "Mr. Getty, the meeting is about to..."
The scene before her made the secretary fall silent. Was this still the usually stern and cold Francis?
The way he looked down at Harper, it was as if he was doting on her!
So Francis wasn't as emotionless as he appeared.
The secretary stood at the door, the meeting about to start, unsure whether to enter or leave.
Harper heard it and didn't dare to look up.
Her body trembled slightly, feeling the delayed embarrassment.
Francis frowned slightly, looked at the secretary at the door, and said coldly, "I'll be there on time."
The secretary quickly left, making sure to close the door behind her.
Harper tried to pull away from Francis, but he held her waist firmly.
"Aren't you going to the meeting?" she asked nervously.
"A little wait won't hurt," Francis replied.
Harper's eyes were still tear-streaked, and her face was a bit red. After being interrupted, she spoke more hesitantly, "You should go to the meeting first. We can talk later."
But Francis didn't let her go, his strong hand gripping her waist tightly. "Harper, are you pitying me?" he asked.
The question hit her like a punch to the gut.
Was she pitying him?
After a long pause, Francis didn't get an answer, and his eyes dimmed.
"I don't need your pity," he said.
Francis didn't want Harper to be bound by her kindness. Love couldn't be sustained by mere sympathy or pity.
If it was just pity, Francis would rather suffer alone for a lifetime than keep her trapped.
He firmly set her down, making sure she was steady before saying, "Go back."
Then, he pressed a switch, and the wheelchair moved steadily away from her.
Harper stood there for a long time, unable to understand why she hadn't replied.
Even though she knew in her heart it wasn't pity, she just couldn't say it. It was as if saying she loved Francis would bring back a lot of pain.
Harper's love for Francis echoed the insecurities of their past.
She felt her psychological barriers reappearing.
Harper crouched down, hugging her arms, trembling uncontrollably.
She called her psychologist, Aurelia Kingsley, who was in Auroria. "Aurelia, I'm so scared. I feel like I'm falling into that vicious cycle again."
After understanding the whole situation, Aurelia gently said, "Do you still remember the good things Mr. Getty did for you?"
With Aurelia's recounting, Harper recalled all the loving memories.
Aurelia was always calm and gentle, and the warm stories Harper had once told her seemed to be imbued with magic when spoken by her.
It turned out Francis and she had so many sweet and warm moments.
Aurelia was right.
They had been through so many ups and downs, how could they let misunderstandings negate everything?
Aurelia told Harper, "From your description, it seems Mr. Getty hasn't let you go either. But he doesn't want you to regret it or be unhappy, so he asked you that question. If you've made up your mind, tell him firmly that you love him, not pity him, and give him enough security."
"Harper, do you remember what I told you?" Aurelia added, "Love can heal everything. You will get better, and so will he."
Aurelia's calm and gentle voice gave Harper strength again.
Before hanging up, Harper said firmly, "I understand. Thank you, Aurelia."
Memories of Francis and her flashed through Harper's mind—their warm and simple daily life, watching the sunrise together, and embracing while watching the sunset, all warm and beautiful.
In those dangerous moments, Francis was always there, taking the hits for her. The scars on his body were proof.
Francis had shown his love for Harper through his actions. What was there to hesitate about?
Harper finally got it. She didn't pity him. She wanted to be with Francis because she loved him!
Those sleepless nights and endless nightmares made her realize she didn't want to lose him and couldn't bear the pain of losing him.
Harper loved Francis, and they should be together, never to be separated again.
Harper waited in the office for Francis to return, wanting to tell him her true feelings, but he never came back, even as night fell.
Harper wrapped herself in the chair Francis had sat in, using the dark blanket he probably used to cover his legs.
She pulled it over herself, surrounded by Francis's unique and pleasant scent, and slowly fell asleep.
After the meeting, Francis didn't return to the office.
But he still asked the secretary, "Is there anyone in my office?"
The secretary replied, "There's no one in your office."
Francis's expression visibly dimmed.
Harper had left.
Harper was kind, but Francis didn't want to use her kindness to fulfill his desires.
Long-term pain was more torturous than short-term pain. Leaving after a brief companionship would be even more heartbreaking.
His insistence would only bring pain to both of them. It was better to turn their shared pain into his alone.
Harper woke up in the office, shivering from the cold.
Emerald Isle at night was like an icebox. Without heating, even the young and strong could freeze to death!
As soon as Harper stood up, she couldn't help but sneeze repeatedly.
The surroundings were pitch black.
She wrapped the blanket tightly around herself, fumbling for the light switch. After a long search, she found it, but no matter how she pressed, the light wouldn't turn on.
Harper remembered Jasper mentioning that Emerald Isle had been implementing power-saving measures due to energy issues.
In places like the convention hall, where no one stayed after hours, the security would cut the power, shutting down all equipment.
Harper hurried back to the desk to find her phone, but in the darkness, she couldn't find it.
There was a phone on the desk. Harper picked it up, but there was only a busy signal.
After the power cut, the network was also down, making it impossible to make a call.
Harper put down the phone in disappointment. Her only hope now was her cell phone.
She continued to fumble on the floor. Although it was carpeted, it couldn't keep out the cold, and the carpet was freezing.
After a long search, Harper finally found something hard—it was her phone. She excitedly picked it up, only to find it was out of battery.
The temperature was dropping rapidly, and the thermometer on the wall showed that the indoor temperature was now below zero Fahrenheit!
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