Chapter 685
“Warren, you are really blind! You have no idea who truly cares about you!” Rosalie couldn’t stand it any longer.
If not for the lack of concrete evidence regarding the past bone marrow donation, and her fear that bringing it up in front of Irene would alert her and give the game away, she wished she could shout the truth at Warren at that very moment.
Warren was taken aback and fixed his gaze on Rosalie. “Ms. Leighton, wait… I mean, Mrs. Youngblood, just because you’re married to Jonathan doesn’t grant you the authority to lecture me!”
Rosalie held Warren’s gaze without wavering, devoid of fear. “Warren, someday you’ll come to realize just how wrong you are!”
Amelia gently tugged at Rosalie’s arm, concerned that a confrontation with Warren might lead to negative consequences. After all, Rosalie was pregnant, carrying three babies in her womb.
“All right, Rosalie, that’s enough. You don’t need to get mad at him for my sake. It’s not worth it,” Amelia said, her gaze fixed on Warren with indifference.
At that moment, her gaze no longer held the self-mocking sadness it used to have, but instead, it was like she was gazing at a complete stranger.
“Warren, all I ask is that you be kinder to Aiden in the future,” Amelia said. That was the only thing she wanted from him.
She had expended an excessive amount of love, hatred, and emotional turmoil on this man. At this juncture, she felt it was time to put an end to it all and no longer squander any additional emotions on him.
After saying that, Amelia grabbed Rosalie and said, “Rosalie, let’s go.”
As Amelia and Rosalie exited the store and made their way toward the escalator, Warren remained rooted in place, his gaze locked on Amelia’s retreating figure. An inexplicable sense of panic surged within his chest.
It felt as if he were genuinely losing something dear to him, something he was unwilling to acknowledge deep down inside.
He wondered, “But… what is it?”
Irene gazed up at Warren’s/somber expression, concealing her inner anxiety. She secretly reassured herself that Amelia’s impending demise was inevitable. Once that happened, Warren would be entirely hers, and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.
In the evening, Rosalie approached Jonathan once more, seeking information about the evidence of the bone marrow donation.
Jonathan replied, “I’ve been trying to find the doctor and nurses who were involved in Amelia’s bone marrow donation surgery. But since some time has
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passed, the people we’ve managed to contact so far don’t remember the specific details of the procedure, and they can’t confirm whether the bone marrow was donated by Amelia or Irene.”
“Then… are there any other evidence?” Rosalie continued.
Jonathan responded, “There’s also Irene’s former boyfriend at the time, Brayden. He works as a doctor at the same hospital and may have some knowledge of the situation. Furthermore, it seems that he and Irene have reconnected recently.”
“Reconnected? But why?” Rosalie was curious.
“I’m not sure, but I will have someone keep an eye on Brayden,” Jonathan said. “You must hurry up and investigate! Delaying Amelia’s condition by even a day could heighten the risk of it spreading,” Rosalie urged. Inwardly, she
contemplated, “If Amelia’s cancer worsens and spreads, even a liver transplant won’t be effective.”
Jonathan replied, “All right, but you seem to care so much about her. When will you care about me?”
“I… um, I do care about you!” she admitted, feeling guilty. She had been preoccupied with thoughts about Amelia, Lillian, and the three babies recently, which had led her to inadvertently neglect Jonathan.
“Oh, is that so?” Jonathan grinned and settled Rosalie onto his lap.
She let out a surprised yelp and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. “How much do you care about me?” His face had drawn nearer to hers, and those lovely, expressive eyes were fixed on her with profound affection and tenderness. His gaze resembled the picturesque scenery of a spring day, and she couldn’t help but lose herself in it.
“For your birthday, I… I’ll prepare something special!” She blushed faintly and continued, “And I’ve already decided on your birthday gift. But don’t judge it when you receive it.”
His eyelashes fluttered faintly. “I won’t be fussy about whatever you choose as a gift. But for my birthday…” He paused for a moment. “I’d like it to be just the two of us, without anyone else. Is that okay?”
She was stunned for a moment. “Just the two of us?”
“Yeah, for my birthday, I don’t need anyone else to be part of it,” he murmured softly, his gaze showing he was struggling to suppress something.
“Why? Is there a particular reason?” She couldn’t help but ask, keenly noticing the expression in his eyes.
He pressed his thin lips together and nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. She could sense that his breathing had grown deeper and heavier.
It seemed as if something heavy was weighing on his chest.
“Jon, we are already married. You can tell me whatever is on your mind. Even
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though with my abilities, I may not be able to help you share the burden, I can at least lend a listening ear,” Rosalie said gently.
He clutched her even tighter. To him, she was like the sole person he could depend on in this world.
Only in her presence could he let his vulnerable side show. “On the second day of my birthday, that woman left my father and me,” he confided.
She was taken aback. After a moment, it dawned on her that the woman he mentioned must be his mother.
“At that time, everything seemed so beautiful, like I was living in a beautiful dream. On my birthday, she didn’t quarrel with my father, and she even bought me a small cake. But the following day, that beautiful dream shattered…”
His words hung in the air, his voice maintaining a composed and distant tone, as if he were narrating a mundane occurrence. Nevertheless, each word carried a profound weight that pressed on Rosalie.
“No matter how my father and I pleaded, she left without a backward glance. If she hadn’t left, my father wouldn’t have died… Why did she paint such a deceptive, beautiful dream for me, only to shatter it?” he continued to murmur until he arrived at the last sentence, and then his voice quivered with concealed emotions.
Rosalie tenderly wrapped her arms around him, embracing him, and pondered, “How long has he carried this in his heart?”
She had always been aware that his mother was a source of pain in his heart.
Now, it was a good thing that he was willing to express these feelings. At least, his pain was no longer buried deep within his heart; he was open to sharing it with her.
“Jon, from now on, your birthday won’t be a shattered dream anymore. Each birthday will become a beautiful memory for us,” Rosalie assured.
