Chapter 677 The Grand Finale
In the medical room, Emma's breathing gradually steadied, and the pain in her lower abdomen miraculously vanished. Billy rushed in to check on her, his face full of shock. "The tumor's really gone? And the placenta's intact? How is this even possible?"
Charles sighed. "There are truly some extraordinary people in this world."
Scarlett stood there, her emotions mixed. She was relieved that the money was safe and the Russell Group was back, but her malice towards Emma was now exposed, leaving her feeling embarrassed.
George didn't say a word. He just walked into the medical room, sat by the bed, and gently held Emma's hand. Her hand was still cool, but much warmer than before.
"Mom, this is the last time I'm saying this. Emma is the love of my life, my wife forever. Whether you accept her or not, she is my wife. If you really can't accept it, then you don't have to see each other anymore. So, if you have anything else to say, please leave my house."
"You..."
Scarlett wanted to say something, but seeing George's gesture of "please," she had to shut her mouth. She wasn't foolish enough to fall out with George.
Now that the Russell Group was back in George's hands, she could return to her high-society life. Why should Emma benefit from all this money?
George didn't care what Scarlett was thinking, as long as she kept quiet.
The early autumn sun at Lakeside Haven was as warm as a thin veil.
Black luxury cars lined up outside the Russell Mansion, and elegantly dressed guests streamed through the doors. The crystal chandeliers refracted dazzling light, making the banquet hall as bright as day. Today was the first birthday party for Emma and George's youngest daughter, Nina Russell, and nearly everyone from Lakeside Haven's high society was in attendance.
Henry held Sophia's hand, followed by two servants carrying a large ornate box. Sophia lifted the red silk covering, revealing a set of jewelry encrusted with pigeon blood rubies, cut to look like solidified flames.
After placing the gift down, they left the banquet hall and headed to the lounge, where Emma was resting with Nina, waiting for the party to officially start.
"Our Nina will live a long, happy life, always cherished," Sophia said with a loving smile, looking at Nina in Emma's arms.
"Grandma and Grandpa's gift is too precious," Emma said softly, pinching Nina's chubby cheek. Nina giggled, grabbing onto the necklace chain.
"Grandma, I missed you so much!" Seraphine, dressed in a pink princess dress, ran over, the lace on her skirt fluttering. Behind her, Lucas, in a little suit, looked like a miniature adult but couldn't resist playing with Nina, who grabbed his finger and called out sweetly, "Lucas, Lucas."
"This child, only one year old and already calling people," Scarlett said as she walked over, her smile softening as she watched the three children together. Over the past year, she had learned the truth about many things and finally understood how deeply she had misunderstood Emma. She let go of her resentment, especially when she saw Nina's adorable face, feeling a sense of completeness.
Time flies when family is together.
It was time for the hosts to make their appearance.
In the banquet hall, George, in a tailored suit, walked in with Emma, who wore a champagne-colored gown. Emma looked radiant, her long hair styled into an elegant updo, revealing her slender neck. There was no sign of her having given birth, only a gentleness in her eyes that was more pronounced than before. They walked to the front, and George raised his glass to the guests. "Thank you all for coming to my daughter Nina's birthday party. Enjoy yourselves."
Amidst the applause, Seraphine tugged at Emma's dress and whispered, "Mom, why isn't Michael here? I haven't seen him in so long. I miss him."
Emma's heart ached slightly. She knelt down and gently touched Seraphine's head, her voice soft. "Michael's far away, doing something very important. He always remembers Nina and you. He sent a gift." She pointed to a whale-shaped gift box in the corner, sent by Michael from Dreamscape Peak half a month ago. Inside was a set of handmade wind chimes, clearly made with great care.
These days, Michael hadn't seen Emma, but he sometimes took Seraphine out to play. In Seraphine's heart, Michael was still the loving, doting father.
(She didn't mean to imply George was any less.)
Seraphine nodded, somewhat understanding, and ran off to play with Lucas. Emma watched her go, then turned to look at George, who was chatting with guests. Feeling her gaze, he turned and smiled at her, his eyes full of warmth. She knew that Michael chose to stay at Dreamscape Peak because he truly wanted the peaceful life Celeste had hoped for, far from conflict, by the sea, finding a long-awaited tranquility.
At the same time, on the coast of Dreamscape Peak.
The autumn wind stirred the waves, crashing against the rocks and sending up white foam.
Michael, in a simple white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, sat on a rock, rubbing a faded red string. He had opened a small inn by the sea, occasionally helping local fishermen repair their boats. His days were as calm as the beach after the tide, peaceful enough to see the patterns on the shells.
"Help! Someone's in the water!"
The cry for help shattered the tranquility. Michael jumped up, seeing a small figure struggling in the waves not far away. He quickly kicked off his shoes and plunged into the sea. The cold water rose to his chest as he swam swiftly and steadily, soon bringing the waterlogged girl back to shore.
An ambulance arrived, and the paramedics took the child. Her family thanked Michael before speeding away. Michael stood on the beach, the sea breeze pressing his shirt against his body, carrying a salty chill. He looked down at his footprints in the sand, soon washed away by the rising tide, as if they had never been there.
"You seem to have changed a lot."
A woman's voice suddenly spoke behind him, clear and light, like the morning breeze at Dreamscape Peak.
Michael's body froze, his blood seemingly turning to ice. He thought he would never hear this voice again, yet it had echoed in his dreams countless times.
He didn't dare turn around, afraid that everything would shatter like a bubble. Was it an illusion? He must have missed her so much that he was hallucinating.
The waves rolled in again, lapping at his ankles. The footsteps behind him were light, the sound of sand being pressed underfoot, slowly approaching.
Michael's fingers clenched the red string tightly, his knuckles white. He could hear his heartbeat, clear as a drum in the roaring wind.
Should he turn around?
He didn't know.
Perhaps some waits shouldn't be rushed. Some reunions needed the waves to wash over them a few more times, the moonlight to be a bit gentler, before he could softly say,
"I've waited for you for so long."
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