Chapter 8

With the pretend marriage certificate torn into pieces, Eloise turned around, only to find Jonathan behind her at one point.

He stood in the pine grove, his shadow stretched long and lean by the lamplight. His calm, unreadable eyes were fixed on her.

Eloise silently gazed back at him. She stood still in the wind, the pine trees around her having grown tall with him.

She was standing in that familiar spot, looking his way just as she had so many times before. Only this time, there was no trace of past affection in her eyes.

That strange ache returned to Jonathan's chest. A sudden sense of loss crept in, like something precious was slipping away. He reached for it, only for the feeling to vanish when he was about to grasp it.

The unknown inexplicably frustrated him. He pursed his lips and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Eloise didn't linger. She strode toward the main gate without batting an eye at him and coldly replied, "To wrap up some personal business."

Her unfeeling tone only deepened Jonathan's frown.

He forcefully yanked her arm, questioning, "What kind of tantrum are you throwing this time? You were the one who repeatedly gave Sonia a hard time. Can't you cut her some slack?

"Please, she's already pitiful enough! And who do you think will buy that pathetic look you're pulling right now?"

Was Sonia pitiful? Of course. She had heart disease at an age when her peers were out living their best lives.

But what about Eloise? Wasn't she also a terminal patient with late-stage liver cancer? Where was that same pity Jonathan showed Sonia?

Eloise kept her thoughts unvoiced. She simply stared at Jonathan quietly, wishfully trying to see the young man she once adored deeply reflected in the eyes of this mature and cold man before her.

She longed for the young man who once loved her to the bone.

"Hey, Ellie? If I regain my mind and become that cold and aloof man you talk about, would you still love me?"

"Of course! Now the question is—will you feel the same for me, Jonathan?"

"You don't even have to ask! Jonathan will love Ellie forever and ever, and we'll never separate!"

Of course, forever was a lie.

"Goodbye, Jonathan," Eloise said softly.

It was a farewell meant for both the man standing before her and the young man she had wholeheartedly loved for five years.

Without a word, Jonathan watched as her figure faded into the distance. Then, a dull ache stirred in his chest.

For some reason, he couldn't shake off the feeling that Eloise's farewell hadn't been a normal goodbye. The way she looked at him felt almost foreign, like she wasn't looking at him.

On top of that, it felt like she didn't want him anymore.

That thought flashed through his mind, sending him into a panic. He took a hurried step and chased after her.

By the time he arrived, Eloise had already opened the car door and gotten in, leaving only a blurry silhouette behind. Gone was her figure from his sight.

Just then, Sonia, wrapped in a thin blanket, slowly appeared from the side. Having been soaked earlier, she looked fragile, each step seeming as if the wind could knock her over.

"Sorry, Jon. I was late."

Jonathan's gaze fell onto her. "It's fine. The gate happened to be open, so I was just out here, waiting for you."

When he took Sonia to the hospital today, she suddenly expressed a desire to see where he had lived for the past five years. Truthfully, he hadn't expected to run into Eloise here.

He noticed her face seemed rather swollen and couldn't help but wonder if he had been overtly rough with her.

Fine. He would apologize to Eloise after comforting Sonia. The former was always kind and rarely stayed mad. At worst, she would just hit him back.

At that thought, a smile spread across Jonathan's face. He reached out a hand to Sonia, and they walked hand in hand into the villa.

Meanwhile, on the freeway, Eloise gripped the steering wheel with one hand and stepped on the accelerator. The car sped forward, heading toward the airport.

Four hours later, she touched down at Valoria Airport. Six hours later, she lay on the operating table.