Chapter 568
How could she remain indifferent?
The only man she had ever loved, loved for so many years, was repeatedly telling her that he loved her.
Those were the words she had once longed to hear.
"Lilian, don't cry. Did I say something wrong again and upset you?" Jackson was nervous.
Lillian's tears kept falling, landing in Jackson's palm.
Jackson carefully wiped away the tears on her face, his handsome face etched with pity and panic.
But Lillian suddenly pushed him away, stumbling backward and nearly falling.
Jackson's face turned pale with fright as he quickly stood up to help her, but she pushed him away again.
He stood there helplessly, reaching out his hand, watching Lillian cry. He wanted to hug her but didn't dare to, his expression full of frustration.
Lillian choked up, glaring at him. "Don't touch me, you bastard!"
"Okay, I won't come over. I'm a bastard, unforgivable. Just don't cry." Jackson was utterly helpless, not knowing how to comfort her anymore.
The more he tried to comfort her, the harder and more aggrieved she seemed to cry.
Lillian took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Why are you pretending to be innocent?" she accused him. "You're so good with words, you know exactly how to move me. How could you say the wrong thing?
"Jackson, you clearly said those things on purpose when I was feeling lost and vulnerable after just learning about my background, to make me emotional!
"You call me cunning, but you're the most cunning hunter! Your love is full of schemes, and I don't want to hear it!"
After saying this, Lillian turned and quickly went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
She was afraid that if she stayed any longer, she'd give in and forgive him.
Lillian closed the door behind her. She didn't see Jackson's shocked and panicked expression standing in the hospital room.
His eyes were red-rimmed, his usual composure shattered by sadness and pain.
His usual confidence and self-assurance had vanished.
The words he'd just spoken had come straight from his heart.
But to her, his love felt like a carefully constructed facade.
Jackson's pale lips curved into a self-mocking smile. He walked to the bathroom door and spoke with difficulty, "Lilian, if I made you sad again, I take back what I just said. If you don't want to see me, I'll leave now. Don't stay in there too long; the air isn't good."
Jackson waited silently for a moment, but there was no sound from inside.
He didn't know if she was still crying. He resisted the urge to break in, sighed lightly, and turned away.
In the bathroom, Lillian leaned against the door, her wet eyelashes drooping, unable to stop the tears from falling.
Tears were probably the best way to vent emotions. Despite the pain, Lillian found that her heart seemed less resentful.
It was then that she heard the soft, familiar piano music coming from the hospital room and paused. She opened the door and stepped out.
Jackson was no longer in the hospital room.
On the floor by the bathroom door, flower petals spelled out the words, "I'm sorry."
The door swung open, a gentle breeze scattering the petals across the floor.
The piano sound was coming from a phone on the bedside table with its screen lit up.
It was her phone, but the music wasn't one of her recordings
Lillian easily recognized it as Jackson's playing, with his unique touch.
And what Jackson was playing was her original piece "Stellar Harmonies," which she had posted on Instagram. She had written this piece for their first meeting when she was eight years old.
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