Chapter 603 Never See Again in This Life
Emma nodded, watching George pack his things. Her throat felt tight, like something was stuck. She wanted to say thank you, but it felt too formal; she wanted to say take care, but it seemed too sentimental. In the end, she just watched him leave in silence, not even saying goodbye.
As the door closed, Emma's tears finally fell.
She bit her lip hard, but the tears kept coming, falling onto her hands and burning her fingertips. She tried to wipe them away, but the more she wiped, the more they came. Finally, she buried her face in the sheets, shaking silently.
Emma didn't dare cry out loud, afraid the nurses outside would hear, afraid anyone would hear. She bit down on her hand until she tasted blood, realizing she had bitten too hard. But what was this pain compared to the gaping wound in her heart? It was nothing.
She slowly lifted her head and looked out the window. The rain was still falling, the water streaks on the glass looking like someone's tears, blurring the world outside.
George was gone.
Really gone.
She had finally pushed him away, just like he had pushed her away so many times before.
But why did it hurt so much?
Emma pressed a hand to her chest, feeling like a piece had been ripped out, leaving an empty, cold ache. She thought she was strong enough, thought she could cut everything off cleanly, but it turned out she still felt pain.
She closed her eyes, but George's departing figure kept appearing in her mind. He had left so decisively, without even looking back.
Emma suddenly remembered three years ago, when she had left Lakeside Haven for Sunterra without looking back.
Back then, she hated him to the core, wished he were dead. But now, she felt heartache over George's departure.
How ridiculous.
Emma wiped away her tears, forcing herself to calm down. But then she noticed a glass of water on the nightstand, with a note underneath it.
She picked it up. It was George's handwriting:
"Remember to take your medicine."
Such a simple sentence, yet it made her tears flow again.
Emma clenched the note tightly, her knuckles turning white.
Why did he still care? She had been so harsh, had pushed him away, so why did he still...
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. But then she looked at her wrist... where she used to wear a cross bracelet that Michael had given her.
She paused, remembering the day at the pier, the way Michael had pulled the trigger.
He had saved her many times.
On the island, in the fire...
Michael had given her a new life.
And what had she given him?
Doubt, hatred, distance.
She suddenly felt it was all so ironic.
Michael had given her a new life, but had taken her daughter's life.
Maybe it was a life for a life.
She closed her eyes, finally making a decision.
Emma's trembling fingers dialed the lawyer's number, the rain outside pounding on the glass like gunshots from that night at the pier.
"I want to transfer all my shares in ML." Her voice was colder than the disinfectant in the hospital room. "The recipient is Michael."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Ms. Stuart, are you sure? This is the brand you built from the ground up."
Emma took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with resolve. "Yes, I'm sure. It's time to let go."
"Prepare the agreement and send it to him directly," Emma interrupted, her nails digging into her palm. "Don't mention it was from me."
She hung up the phone and collapsed onto the pillow, feeling drained. The IV drip counted down each drop, like a ticking clock. On the nightstand was a drawing Lucas had given her yesterday, showing a family of three holding hands, with a smiling sun.
"Ms. Stuart?" The nurse knocked gently. "It's time to change your bandages."
Emma quickly wiped away her tears and nodded. When the bandage was removed, the ugly wound was exposed to the air. The nurse gasped. "This gunshot wound..."
"It's okay." Emma stared at the scar, remembering George's blood-soaked white shirt as he rushed to her. "I can handle it. Go ahead."
At the top floor of the Russell Group building, Michael stared at the gold-embossed envelope on his desk, his temples throbbing. The lawyer stood nervously beside him. "Mr. Russell, this is the full transfer agreement for ML Group."
"Where is she?" Michael's voice was icy.
"Ms. Stuart said..."
Michael slammed his fist on the desk, making the crystal ashtray jump. "I asked where she is!"
Half an hour later, a black Maybach sped through the rain. Michael clutched the agreement, the paper crumpling in his hand. At a red light, he glanced at his bloodshot eyes in the rearview mirror.
"Emma!"
The hospital room door was flung open, and Emma, who was packing her things, trembled. Michael stood in the doorway, drenched, rainwater dripping from his jawline and pooling on the floor.
"Buying me off with money?" He threw the agreement onto the bed, the pages scattering. "ML is your life's work, and now you're throwing it away like trash?"
Emma forced herself to look at him. "It's what you deserve."
"Deserve?" Michael laughed, a sound more painful than crying. "What I deserve is your hatred! Your revenge, stabbing me in the heart!" He jabbed his chest. "Not this pathetic charity!"
Thunder rumbled outside, illuminating Emma's pale face. She gripped the bed rail to stop herself from shaking. "Michael, you saved me, pulled me out of hell every time." She looked at her bandaged shoulder. "Now we're even."
"Even?" Michael stepped closer, rainwater dripping onto her hand. "So you've decided I'm the one who killed Seraphine, haven't you?"
Emma's pupils contracted, memories tearing open like wounds. "I..."
"Emma." Michael grabbed her shoulder. "Look at me! Why won't you believe me? I told you, I would never hurt Seraphine! You'd rather believe those flimsy pieces of evidence than trust me?"
The pain from her wound made Emma gasp, but she stubbornly refused to cry out. Michael immediately let go, stepping back in defeat. "See, you even endure the pain, just like you endure your hatred for me."
The sound of the rain faded. Emma looked at the drenched Michael in front of her, remembering how he used to carefully pick out fish bones for Seraphine, how he would cover her with a blanket at night. Those memories were like shards of glass, painful to swallow, even more painful to spit out.
"I can't do it." She finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't smile at you like before, and I can't truly hate you either."
Michael's eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. "Emma, we need to face this together. Running away won't solve anything."
Emma shook her head, tears welling up again. "I don't know how to face it, Michael. Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of everything we've lost."
Michael took a deep breath, his expression pained but determined. "Then let's find a way to heal together. We owe it to Seraphine, and we owe it to ourselves."
Emma looked into his eyes, searching for the strength she once knew. "I don't know if I can."
"You can," Michael said softly, stepping closer. "We can. One step at a time."
Emma hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Okay. One step at a time."
Michael reached out, gently taking her hand. "We'll get through this, Emma. Together."
As the rain continued to fall outside, they stood there, holding onto each other, finding a glimmer of hope in the midst of their pain.
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