“Freya!”
Jack jolted awake, calling out Freya’s name.
Elliot sat by the bedside, his expression dark and severe.
“Jack Sterling, from this moment on, you’re to focus on work and getting your health back. You are not to look for Freya again!”
Jack coughed harshly, confusion and defiance evident in his hoarse voice. “Why? She’s my wife. I haven’t signed the divorce papers, so we’re still married. As long as I stay determined, as long as I’m sincere, she’ll forgive me eventually!
“She’s soft-hearted. If I just put in the effort, she’ll come back to me…”
“Enough!” Elliot barked, cutting him off.
Without another word, he pulled out his phone and played a recording of his recent call with Freya.
Her calm, resolute voice filled the room, shattering every ounce of Jack’s confidence.
When the recording ended, the room fell into an oppressive silence.
For a long moment, Jack muttered to himself, “No… impossible… this isn’t real. I have to find her. I have to see her! I need to tell her that she’s the only one for me—that she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved!”
Ignoring his frail state, Jack pushed himself out of bed, yanking out the IV needle from his hand. Dragging his weak body forward, he stumbled toward the door.
Elliot didn’t stop him. He knew what would happen.
Sure enough, Jack only made it a few steps before collapsing to the floor, his body too feeble to support him.
