Chapter 213 She Might Be Scared, I'll Stay With Her.
Isaac didn't say a word.
He just clutched the urn and trudged upstairs.
Edmund called out, "Isaac, where you takin' Nora's ashes? Since you brought 'em back, let's bury her in the Porter Family cemetery and get it over with!"
Without even looking back, Isaac muttered, "You handle it. I need some time alone with Nora."
Edmund watched him go, shaking his head and sighing.
He thought, 'When Nora was alive, Isaac didn't give a damn; now she's gone, and he's all torn up. Too little, too late.'
Edmund got on the phone to set things up.
Isaac took Nora's urn to his room.
He locked the door and pulled the curtains shut.
In the pitch-black room, he hugged the urn tight.
Isaac just sat there on the bed, holding the urn, lost in a daze.
His mind was a blank slate, not even sure how to grieve.
After a long time, Isaac opened the urn and stared at the white ashes, his eyes empty.
Was Nora really gone?
How could such a alive person become a tiny pile of ashes.
When Isaac closed his eyes, he could still see Nora standing there, clear as day.
But when he opened them, she was gone.
All that was left was a lifeless pile of ashes.
"Mr. Isaac Porter, Mr. Edmund Porter has everything ready. We can bury Nora now. Mr. Edmund Porter asked me to call you to bring Nora's ashes over," Wesley's voice came from outside the door.
Isaac snapped back to reality.
He didn't move, still staring at the urn in his hands.
"Mr. Isaac Porter?" Wesley called again from outside.
Isaac finally stirred.
He found a small bottle, took a bit of the ashes, then closed the urn and walked out with it.
They drove to the Porter Family cemetery.
Everything was set up.
Once the ashes arrived, they were buried right away.
After the burial, Edmund had a pastor come to say a prayer.
Isaac stood silently in front of the new grave, feeling like a piece of him was missing.
His Nora was never coming back.
"Isaac, the dead can't come back. Don't be too sad. Now that Nora's buried, you should move on and start fresh. You can't keep living in the past," Edmund advised solemnly.
Isaac whispered, "Grandpa, you go ahead. I want to stay with her a bit longer."
Edmund sighed and said, "If I had known it would end like this, I wouldn't have forced you to marry Nora."
Then he shook his head and said no more, letting someone push him away.
Isaac knelt in front of Nora's grave, quietly looking at the photo of her smiling face on the tombstone.
The photo was from when Nora was in college.
Back then, Nora was like a little sun, bright and cheerful, lighting up all the darkness. No matter what happened, she faced it with a smile.
She was so positive, why would she choose to commit suicide for such a small joke?
"Nora, the things I said about not loving you were lies. Come back, and let's start over, okay? This time I won't lie to you, and I won't blame you. Even if you had a child with Mortimer, I wouldn't blame you, as long as you come back," Isaac said sadly.
But the dead can't come back.
No matter what promises Isaac made, Nora couldn't respond.
Suddenly, it started to rain.
The rain was heavy, soaking his clothes in an instant.
But Isaac didn't seem to notice, still kneeling there, soaked and lost in despair.
The next morning, Edmund woke up and saw the heavy rain outside. He called the butler, Kieran, and said, "Get Isaac over here. I'm worried he's gonna spiral if he's alone. If I keep him busy, he might feel better."
Kieran nodded, "Yes, sir. I'll call him right away."
He made the call.
Soon, Kieran came back and reported, "Wesley said Mr. Isaac Porter never left the cemetery. He's still there. And he's been in the rain all night. No matter what they said, he wouldn't budge."
"What?" Edmund's face turned pale. "Isaac just woke up from a three-day coma. His health's already shaky, and now he's been out in the rain? Is he trying to kill himself? Get me to the cemetery. I'll talk to him myself!"
Kieran shook his head, "Your health isn't great either. The rain's heavy; you'll get sick. And Mr. Isaac Porter might not listen to you. Maybe someone his age would have better luck."
Edmund frowned, "Someone his age? You mean Mortimer?"
Isaac and Mortimer used to be tight, but they had a falling out four years ago and now they hated each other. Mortimer wouldn't help; he'd probably just rub it in.
Kieran said, "Not Mr. Radcliffe. Remember, Mr. Isaac Porter is also close to Mr. Whitaker."
Edmund's eyes lit up, "Right, contact Harold. Ask him to talk some sense into Isaac!"
Kieran nodded, "On it!"
At the Porter Family cemetery, the rain was coming down even harder, worse than when Nora had her accident.
Isaac, drenched to the bone, still knelt silently in front of Nora's grave.
Wesley, holding an umbrella, knelt beside him, pleading, "Mr. Porter, please go back. You've been here all night. Nora knows how you feel. Go rest, and come back in a few days, okay?"
Isaac's voice was low, "Nora must be scared alone in this cold place. I want to stay with her."
Wesley tried, "She won't be scared. She's not alone. The Porter Family ancestors are here. They'll keep her company and protect her."
Isaac snapped, "They're ghosts. Nora will be scared."
Wesley was at a loss. He wanted to say that Nora was also a ghost now, but he bit his tongue to avoid upsetting Isaac.
Wesley kept trying to persuade Isaac, but nothing worked.
Just then, he saw a familiar figure approaching and said excitedly, "Mr. Whitaker, thank goodness you're here! Please help me. Mr. Porter's been in the rain all night. If this keeps up, he won't make it. Please, get him to go back and rest!"
Harold said softly, "Leave it to me."
Wesley stepped aside for Harold.
Harold brought a bouquet of carnations.
He knelt beside Isaac, placed the flowers in front of the tombstone, and closed his eyes for a moment of silence.
Then he looked at Isaac.
Isaac spoke up, "Go back. Don't try to talk me out of this. I'm fine. I just want to stay with her a bit longer."
Harold replied, "Don't worry. I'm not here to persuade you."
As soon as he said that, Harold raised his hand and struck the back of Isaac's neck without hesitation.
Isaac glared at Harold in anger but didn't get a word out before passing out.
Harold smirked, "Talking to you would be a waste of time."
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