Back in the ward, Uncle had taken his medicine and fallen asleep. Ash Sinclair told his sister to go home and rest, and come back tomorrow morning.
Leah Sinclair obediently agreed.
Walking out of the hospital gates, the smell of disinfectant faded. She walked forward with her head down and bumped into someone.
"Sorry." She didn’t look up, just walked around him and continued on her way.
Josh Sterling stood where he was, turning his head to watch her retreating back.
"Josh?" The person beside him nudged him. "What’s wrong?"
Phillip Pierce followed his gaze and let out a sound of realization. "Oh, her. Her uncle is hospitalized here on the second floor, in the general ward."
"Isn’t this the Hawthorne Family’s hospital?" Josh tightened his grip.
"Yeah." Phillip lowered his voice. "I heard Kian Hawthorne gives her a twenty-thousand monthly allowance, and her in-laws don’t give her a dime. Company shares, dividends, options—nothing. Word on the street is the Hawthorne Family forbids Kian from looking after her cousin’s business."
Josh said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the direction of the hospital gates.
"Stop looking, Old Chandler is still waiting," Phillip said, walking forward. "Visiting hours are almost over."
"Give me your car keys."
Phillip froze for a moment, then handed the keys over. Josh had already chased after her.
Phillip stood there, shaking his head, and muttered, "She doesn’t even remember you, why bother..."
***
Leah stood by the road, waiting for her ride-hail. The hospital entrance was crowded with people leaving after visiting hours. Cars were packed tightly together, and honking echoed relentlessly.
She glanced down at her phone. The car she booked was still two kilometers away, and the roads on the map were a deep, congested red. The night breeze was a bit chilly; she pulled her trench coat collar tighter.
A black SUV pulled up in front of her. The window rolled down, revealing an extraordinarily handsome face. The driver wore a three-piece suit, the fabric giving off a subtle sheen.
"Number ending in 3688, did you call for a car?"
was the last four digits of her phone number. She checked her phone again. The car she booked was still two kilometers away, completely motionless.
"I’m a friend of the driver," the man said, handing over his ID, vehicle registration, and phone. "He couldn’t make it in time, so he asked me to pick you up. He begged you please not to give him a bad rating."
The ID card read: Josh Sterling. The home address wasn’t a standard apartment complex, but a standalone house on a certain street in the city center.
Leah hesitated for a few seconds, tapped cancel on her app, took the items, and got into the back seat. The car was very clean, obviously the personal vehicle of someone highly successful. But she was still a little nervous.
"Is the AC too cold?" Josh asked.
"It’s fine," Leah said, pursing her lips.
Josh occasionally glanced at the girl in the back seat through the rearview mirror. With large eyes and a touch of baby fat on her cheeks, she looked like the dream first love of many men. With her shoulder-length hair and beige dress, her features were pure and gentle. With just a little dressing up, she would be a silver-screen-level beauty.
Leah’s phone chimed with a brief notification. She looked down and saw a WhatsApp message from Kian Hawthorne asking, [What’s up?]
Leah: [Uncle isn’t doing too well. He needs a specific medicine. Could you help find it?]
Kian: [Tell Diana Carter.]
Diana Carter was his head secretary.
Leah replied: [Okay.]
"Why do the trees in Florian shed their leaves in the spring?" the driver suddenly asked.
Leah snapped back to reality. "They sprout new buds in the spring, which push the old leaves off."
"I’ve been away for many years, I forgot."
Leah noticed this driver. The suit he was wearing was probably no cheaper than Kian’s haute couture.
The car pulled up to the front gates of The Arbour. Leah handed back the ID and phone. "Thank you."
Josh took them back without saying much.
***
The Arbour was a luxury residential complex in Florian’s new CBD. The smallest floor plan was over three hundred square meters, and the cheapest unit cost tens of millions, yet it was still nearly impossible to buy one.
Leah walked into the top-floor penthouse. The place was empty and so quiet it was eerie. When she and Kian married two years ago, this was their marital home.
The living room sofa was large and soft. Leah sank into it, utterly exhausted. The tissue box on the coffee table was empty. Unwashed bowls sat on the dining table. They hadn’t hired a maid; she took care of everything herself. It had been her idea. She didn’t want a "third party" in their little home.
A third party.
Leah paused.
Who was the real third party? Kian had always had an old flame in his heart—she had known this before they got married. Yet she had still stubbornly jumped right in.
They had known each other for a long time.
When she was fourteen, she and her cousin Ash Sinclair had been running a stall at the night market when some thugs harassed them. Kian, walking by after a tutoring class, had bailed them out. He was seventeen that year, wearing a track uniform. The streetlight cast a warm glow on him, making him look like the male lead in a classic movie. With a cold expression, he took out his phone and summoned the local police chief with a single call.
She had secretly harbored feelings for him ever since. Knowing she wasn’t good enough for him, she never imagined it could become a reality.
Later, by a stroke of luck, she saved the Hawthorne Family’s grandmother. The grandmother insisted that her grandson marry her.
At the family matchmaking dinner, she sat down in front of him. He glanced up at her for a second before looking away, saying indifferently, "It’s you."
The grandmother took her hand and said, "My grandson lost his mother when he was little. He’s withdrawn, but he has a kind heart. Leah, I’m old. Could you help me take care of him?"
On the way to their wedding, her high heels refused to cooperate. He stopped and waited for her for a few seconds, then resignedly reached out his hand to her and said, "Let’s go."
It was that single "Let’s go" that led her to falsely believe that as long as she treated him well with all her heart, one day, he would truly look at her.
For the first year and a half of their marriage, Kian was distant, but they had maintained a mutual respect. Half a year ago, Selene Shaw returned to the country, and they reunited at a class reunion.
He started staying out all night. He wouldn’t reply to texts. He wouldn’t reply to WhatsApp messages. When he did pick up the phone, he’d say, "I’m busy," and hang up immediately.
Last month, on their second wedding anniversary, he didn’t come home until past two in the morning. She asked him if he remembered their anniversary, and he retorted, "Is there really such a thing?"
Leah placed the bowls into the sterilizer cabinet and closed the door. She had moved her things out of the master bedroom a few days ago and was now staying in the guest room. She was also secretly looking for a new place; once she found one, she would move out.
Inside the drawer was a divorce agreement. She had already drafted and signed it. She wanted nothing, only to leave with dignity.
She knew Kian had always looked down on her. He claimed that she had deliberately approached his grandmother and used underhanded means just to marry into the Hawthorne Family. She had explained it a few times, but he wouldn’t listen.
Leah put the agreement back. Her uncle’s illness and that new medicine—she had to beg Kian to help find it.
She had been foolish enough to let herself get cheated on; she had no one to blame but herself. But she had lost her parents at twelve and had been raised single-handedly by her uncle and aunt. She owed them an immeasurable debt of gratitude. She could endure it. Her beloved family had to be well.
***
Leah didn’t know that the black SUV that had just dropped her off was still parked downstairs, having never left.
Josh rolled down the window, lit a cigarette, and called his childhood friend, Phillip Pierce.
"Josh, what’s going on? Are you still coming over?"
"Where is Kian Hawthorne?"
"Need you even ask? He’s at the hospital accompanying his first love. I hear he’s staying there all night." Phillip paused. "I have to say, since you’re so hung up on her, you should have just snatched her away back then. You were the one who saved her life when she was a kid."
"I’m heading over now to return your car."
Josh hung up the phone and looked back up at the top-floor window.
If he made her regain her memories, she would remember that shipwreck and how her parents had sunk right in front of her eyes. He had promised her parents that she would live the rest of her life in happiness.
His fingers unconsciously tightened around the steering wheel, the genuine leather letting out a muted, suppressed creak.
He had known for a long time that there was one type of person in this world who could never be trusted.
Other people.
How could he possibly hand her over to "other people"?