Chapter 553 Guardian
George stared out the darkened window, his expression grim.
"Michael, as long as I'm here, you can forget about messing with Emma's mind and memories!"
Emma stood under the cherry blossom tree in the hospital garden, the spring breeze scattering pink and white petals around her. She reached out to catch a pedal, suddenly feeling a familiar gaze on her. She spun around quickly, but only saw a nurse pushing a wheelchair and a few patients taking a walk.
"Was it just my imagination?" she murmured to herself, not noticing the flash of a black coat disappearing behind a tree.
From a third-floor window, Michael lowered his binoculars, his face darkening. He dialed a number. "Increase surveillance. I want to know George's every move."
Meanwhile, in a black sedan in the hospital's underground garage, George removed his Bluetooth earpiece and instructed Ulysses, "From now on, I need you to personally oversee the drug development."
Late at night, Emma woke up from a nightmare, her hospital gown soaked in cold sweat. In her dream, a blurry figure stood with its back to her, refusing to turn around no matter how much she called out.
She turned on the bedside lamp with trembling hands and suddenly noticed a delicate music box next to her pillow. She opened it gently, and a familiar melody began to play—the lullaby she loved to sing to Seraphine.
Engraved on the bottom of the music box were the words: "For my forever princess."
Tears streamed down Emma's face.
"Was it Michael?" She clutched the music box tightly, her heart pounding. "I'm sorry, Michael, I don't think I can return your feelings."
In the hallway outside her room, Michael slid down the wall, sitting on the floor. Hearing her sobs from inside, he closed his eyes in pain.
As the morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, Sophia quietly entered the room with a thermos. Seeing Emma awake and staring out the window, she sighed with concern.
"Emma, I made you some chicken soup. Drink it while it's hot." Sophia placed the thermos on the bedside table and gently stroked Emma's gaunt cheek.
Emma forced a smile. "Thanks, Mom. You don't have to come every day."
"Silly girl, I'm your mother." Sophia's eyes reddened as she ladled the soup, her voice trembling. "You have no idea how worried I was when I got the call from the hospital. I almost..."
She trailed off, her expression turning anxious. Emma noticed the change immediately. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing." Sophia handed Emma the bowl, changing the subject. "By the way, are you feeling any better? Has Michael visited you?"
Emma's hand trembled slightly, the spoon clinking against the bowl. "He said he'd give me time to think. He hasn't shown up lately."
Sophia hesitated, then sighed. "Drink your soup before it gets cold."
After her morning rehab session, Emma leaned back in her wheelchair, exhausted. As Sophia pushed her back to her room, they overheard some nurses whispering at the nurses' station.
"Mr. Russell came again. He comes every night. It's so romantic."
"Shh, the director told us not to talk about it."
Emma gripped the wheelchair's armrest tightly and turned to Sophia. "Mom, are they talking about Michael?"
Sophia's face paled, and she stammered, "Well...I..."
"You knew, didn't you?" Emma's voice shook. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Sophia knelt, holding Emma's cold hands. "Emma, Michael didn't want me to tell you. He didn't want to pressure you. He just wanted to watch over you quietly."
Tears welled up in Emma's eyes, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. She thought of the music box, the faint footsteps in the night, the blurry figure in her dreams.
"He comes every night?"
"Yes." Sophia nodded gently. "Sometimes he stands there for hours, just watching you sleep. When you had a fever and were delirious, he almost called the entire medical team."
That night, Emma couldn't sleep. The moonlight outside her window was cold and distant, mirroring her chaotic thoughts.
She remembered three years ago, when Michael brought her to Sunterra for treatment;
She remembered the days in the hospital when Michael never left her side;
She remembered the gentle look in his eyes when he spoke.
But another figure, George, also filled her mind. The man who once made her heart race and then broke it, now seemed to be everywhere. The top medical team, the best room, even the magazines she casually flipped through were replaced with the latest issues the next day.
"What should I do?" Emma buried her face in her hands, tears seeping through her fingers.
She couldn't lie to herself. She had fallen for George again. But how could she repay Michael for everything he had done? The man who had given her everything, now even his concern was cautious, afraid of burdening her.
The next morning, Sophia noticed the dark circles under Emma's eyes and felt a pang of sorrow.
"Emma, I know you're hurting." She gently brushed Emma's hair. "But you can't force feelings. Gratitude is gratitude, and love is love."
Emma looked up with tear-filled eyes. "But Michael..."
"He's a good man, I know." Sophia sighed. "But over the years, I've seen it clearly. Your eyes only light up when you talk about George."
Emma was stunned.
"Maybe there's more to what happened back then." Sophia held Emma's hand. "I'm not telling you what to do. I just hope you don't make a decision you'll regret out of guilt."
In the afternoon, Emma took a walk in the garden alone. Turning a corner, she suddenly stopped. Michael stood not far away, holding a bouquet of her favorite white tulips.
Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze.
"Michael." Emma's voice was barely audible.
Michael hadn't expected to see her either, and the bouquet trembled slightly in his hands. After a moment of silence, he quickly approached her. "Why are you out here alone? Where's the nurse?"
The familiar concern made Emma's nose tingle. "I wanted some fresh air."
Michael took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "It's windy."
The familiar warmth enveloped her, and Emma suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Why didn't you tell me you come every night?"
Michael's body stiffened, his eyes flickering before he regained his composure. He gently held Emma's hand, his voice low and tender. "Emma, I didn't want to make things harder for you."
Michael led Emma to a bench in the garden, the white tulips lying quietly between them.
"Michael, I..." Emma started, her voice breaking. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Michael replied softly. "I just want you to be happy, Emma. That's all that matters to me."
Emma looked down at the tulips, her mind racing. "You've done so much for me, Michael. I don't know how to repay you."
Michael shook his head. "You don't owe me anything. Just take care of yourself, okay?"
Emma nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you, Michael. For everything."
Michael smiled gently, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Anytime, Emma. Anytime."
As they sat in the garden, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over them. Emma knew she had a difficult decision to make, but for now, she was grateful for the moment of peace.
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