Compared to Manfred’s tension, Janet remained calm.
Ever since the last ti Manfred left, her world had already gone completely dark.
The doctors said it was to be expected.
The blood clot in her brain hadn’t been cleared in ti—
now it had triggered a cascade of complications: blindness, migraines, even sudden fainting spells.
She knew she couldn’t delay the surgery for too long.
But because of the pregnancy, she couldn’t rely too heavily on dication either.
So she endured.
"I’m fine. I’ve gotten used to it," she said gently.
Even though she couldn’t see his expression, she could feel the anxiety in his touch—
the warmth of his palm enclosing hers.
Yet...
that warmth didn’t give her the sa sense of security Charles once did.
"How’s the little one doing?"
Manfred carefully led her outside into the light.
She needed to absorb sunlight—every day, she would walk around this area.
Though she couldn’t see, she had learned to feel it all with her heart.
He wanted to reach out, to touch the swell of her stomach.
But when he felt the sweat forming on her palm, he stopped.
She wasn’t comfortable with his touch.
He could tell.
"He’s doing well. I don’t throw up anymore," Janet said softly.
At the ntion of the baby, a faint smile blood on her lips—
light as spring mist, yet sohow dazzling.
The baby had started kicking now.
Every ti she felt that tiny, restless movent inside her,
Janet was reminded—
she was alive. The baby was alive.
It gave her joy. Fulfillnt. Even a fragile kind of peace.
"I’ve made arrangents with a hospital," Manfred said after a pause.
"I’ll head back in a few days to finalize everything, then take you to a better facility to get checked.
We need to make sure your condition isn’t getting worse."
Janet smiled and shook her head.
"Manfred, don’t worry about . I’m really okay.
All I want... is to safely bring this child into the world."
She suddenly stopped walking.
She knew this spot—
under the banyan tree facing the lake, where the trailing willow branches filtered the sun.
She could sense the shift in light even without her eyes.
"...Can’t you think about yourself, just once?" Manfred’s voice finally cracked with frustration.
"Do you want this child to be born without a mother?"
He hated this—
Hated that she was willing to throw herself away just to leave sothing behind for Charles.
Why hadn’t Charles noticed her condition earlier?
Why had he allowed her to get pregnant in the first place?
This wasn’t love.
This was killing her.
His words struck sothing deep in Janet.
She bit her lip, saying nothing, though her heart was tight and bitter.
She loved this baby so much—how could she bear the thought of not being there?
But sotis...
Sotis, she truly wondered if she could hold on that long.
All her hopes were tied to this child.
And to Charles.
If she were to die—
leaving behind the two people she loved most in the world—
How could she rest in peace?
"...All right, just a scan. Just to check if anything’s worsening.
It won’t harm the baby, I promise."
Manfred’s tone softened. He saw the shimr of tears behind her closed eyelids and sighed.
She was always like this—
So sensitive when it ca to the baby.
So afraid of hurting him.
"Mm."
Janet didn’t want to reject his kindness again.
She nodded quietly and brought one hand to rest on her belly, now slightly rounded.
She could still hear it—
The strong, steady heartbeat within her.
She sighed deeply, then allowed herself to be led again.
"Co on. Let’s sit in the sun for a bit," Manfred said, gently taking her hand again.
He led her toward the stone pavilion ahead,
took off his jacket and placed it carefully over the cold bench,
then helped her sit down.
"...Manfred," she whispered after a long pause.
"How... how is he?"
She hesitated to even say the words,
but she had to ask.
She knew he must be doing terribly.
He probably hated her now.
"You still have the heart to care about him?"
Manfred tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
He could never understand her.
Everything—every single thing she did—still revolved around Charles.
Even walking away... was for his sake.
And if she really died because of all this,
how was that fair?
How could he possibly forgive Charles then?
"Don’t worry. He’s fine," Manfred replied casually.
"He was all over the place looking for you at first, but now he seems to have cald down.
No idea what he’s up to these days."
Manfred hadn’t been paying much attention to Charles lately.
His sole focus was arranging for the best neurosurgeon—
getting everything ready so Janet could undergo surgery right after giving birth.
But when Janet heard that he’d stopped looking for her,
she felt an unexpected wave of relief...
followed by a quiet, bitter ache.
So... he’d finally given up.
Maybe he was disappointed in her.
Maybe he’d decided she wasn’t worth the fight anymore.
And wasn’t this exactly what she had wanted?
To disappear.
To cut ties.
To spare him.
Then why did it still hurt so much?
Manfred saw her expression fall,
her delicate features drooping like a wilted flower,
and sothing seed to occur to him.
"Oh—right! I brought so more dicine for you. It’s in the car."
He stood up abruptly. "Wait here for , alright?"
He also rembered he’d packed a few changes of clothes for her—
the weather was getting colder, and this place was far too remote.
It had once been a holiday resort, suitable for short stays,
but now Janet had to stay here for over five months.
He had to prepare everything—
even baby clothes.
She couldn’t see anymore.
She couldn’t shop or plan.
All he could do was try to ease her sorrow,
little by little,
with these quiet acts of care.
He had been so eager to see her that he’d rushed out of the car empty-handed.
"Stay right here," he reminded her softly.
Janet nodded obediently.
Then Manfred turned and walked off down the path,
his tall figure gradually disappearing into the grove ahead.
But just as he vanished from view,
four figures erged from a shaded side path.
At the lead stood Charles—
followed by a young, brilliant architect from the resort developnt team.
The man was showing him around,
explaining layouts and potential redesigns.
Two others—Amos and his assistant from Black Rock Co.—trailed behind,
quiet and attentive, taking notes,
carefully adjusting to Charles’s every instruction.
Charles said little.
His gaze lingered on the hills and fields,
the soft light filtering through the trees,
the tranquil air that hung over this hidden piece of land.
And for so reason,
the deeper he walked into the countryside,
the faster his heart began to race.
Was it because she had once lived here?
Because her scent, her presence, had lingered in this place?
There was a strange weight in the air,
a kind of unspoken mory pressing against his chest.
And then, at a fork in the path,
he lifted his eyes—
—and saw a tall figure disappear around the bend.
His breath caught.
Even just from the back—
he knew.
Manfred.
What the hell was he doing here?
A surge of unease shot through Charles’s chest,
hot and sharp.
All the calm he’d built up these past few days shattered in an instant.
Could it be...?
Could she—
Was she... here?
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