Chapter 126
Chapter 126
"Grandma, please don't try to comfort me." Scarlett lowered her lashes, her voice faint but cold. "I don't understand what goes on in his head, and I don't understand his so-called feelings. All he has for me is possessiveness. Nothing more."
Sophia heard the lifelessness in her tone and let out a deep sigh. Her eyes gradually reddened.
"Lettie, you're wrong." Sophia looked at her, her gaze profound and certain. "Brandon has truly loved you, and only you, from the very beginning."
Scarlett's fingers stiffened slightly. She lifted her eyes to meet Sophia's.
"He grew up in the cutthroat world of the Robinson family—parents gone too soon, surrounded by nothing but schemes and self-interest. No one ever taught him how to love another person." Sophia's voice carried a deep, helpless sorrow. "He mistook his sick obsession for love, and he confused the debt he felt he owed Elizabeth for an obligation he had to repay. He's too proud and too foolish. He doesn't know how to love, so he used the most hurtful methods possible and pushed you further and further away."
Sophia paused, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "It's not that he doesn't love you. He just doesn't know how to love you, and that's why he's torn you apart."
Scarlett listened quietly, saying nothing. The cold, brutal memories flashed through her mind, intertwining with the image of him shoving her out of harm's way today, tearing at her nerves.
Sophia stood up and released Scarlett's hand.
Then, this woman—a pillar of respect in Imperial City's Chinese community—bent slightly at the waist and bowed deeply to Scarlett.
"Grandma!" Scarlett gasped, trying to reach for her, but she didn't have the strength.
Sophia straightened, tears streaming down the creases of her face.
"This bow is my apology on Brandon's behalf. He owes you a life. He owes you a child. And now, he's paid that debt with his own life."
Sophia looked at Scarlett, her tone more resolute than ever. "Lettie, if you're truly determined to leave, I won't stop you. As long as he makes it through this, once he wakes up, I'll personally make sure he signs the divorce papers. I promise you—the Robinson family will never stand in your way again."
Scarlett leaned back against the pillow, her thoughts spiraling into chaos.
She'd hated him for so long, resented him for so long. She thought her heart had turned into a stone that could never be warmed.
But hearing Sophia's confession, seeing Brandon lying in a pool of blood—her heart, once solid as granite, cracked open just a fraction.
She didn't know what she felt for Brandon anymore.
The hatred was still there. But the strength she'd had to sever everything completely seemed to have been shattered in that crash.
Just as the room fell into deathly silence, the door burst open with a loud bang.
Ethan strode in, dressed in a charcoal trench coat.
He'd just wrapped up a top-tier medical symposium in Shadow City. The moment he heard about Brandon's accident, he'd boarded a private helicopter straight to Haven Healthcare Hospital.
He walked to the bedside, glanced at Scarlett, confirmed she was only weak and otherwise unharmed, then turned to Sophia.
Ethan's expression was grim, his gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses radiating the absolute rationality and professionalism of a top-tier surgeon.
"Mrs. Sophia Robinson, I've reviewed Brandon's brain CT scans." Ethan removed his coat and handed it to his assistant without looking, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The bleeding is located extremely deep, near the brainstem. The surgery carries an extremely high risk. One wrong move and he'll die on the table."
He rolled up his shirtsleeves as he turned toward the door.
"Prep Operating Room One." Ethan's voice echoed down the corridor, firm and unyielding. "I'm performing this craniotomy myself."
---
The hospital room door opened softly.
Alex walked in, holding Stella's hand.
He still wore the charcoal cashmere coat from earlier, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion from rushing over.
"Scarlett!" Stella pulled free from Alex's grip and ran to the bedside on her little legs, carefully wrapping her arms around Scarlett's arm. Her big eyes brimmed with tears. "Don't be sick. Stella's scared."
Scarlett's heart ached. She lifted her free hand and gently stroked the little girl's soft hair.
"I'm okay," she said hoarsely.
Alex pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze calm and steady on her.
"Ethan's handling everything outside. The Robinson Group's security has the hospital surrounded. Right now, all you need to do is rest."
Scarlett lowered her eyes and said nothing.
---
Time dragged on endlessly in the sharp scent of disinfectant.
One day and one night.
A full twenty-four hours. Ethan didn't leave the operating room once.
Scarlett pulled out her IV and stubbornly sat on the bench outside the OR.
Sophia, too old to endure the wait, was finally persuaded by the butler to return to the Robinson Villa.
Alex sent Stella home with the nanny but stayed behind with Scarlett.
The air in the corridor felt suffocating.
Finally, a soft chime sounded. The red light above the OR went dark.
The heavy sealed doors slid open.
Ethan emerged in his surgical scrubs, pulling down his mask. His forehead glistened with sweat.
He looked at Scarlett as she rushed forward and gave her a weary nod.
"The surgery was a success. The hematoma's cleared. He's tough—he made it through."
The moment she heard those words, Scarlett's nerves, strung tight for a day and a night, snapped.
Her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the bench.
Her vision blurred.
Fat tears fell uncontrollably onto the backs of her hands.
She was crying.
Scarlett bit down hard on her lower lip, covered her face with both hands, and her shoulders shook violently.
She asked herself over and over: Why are you crying? What are you so happy about? He drove you to the edge. He killed your child. You should hate him with every fiber of your being.
But the moment she learned he'd survived, the wild relief that flooded her felt like shame.
Alex stood beside her and handed her a tissue.
"Stop lying to yourself." His voice was gentle, but it cut like a scalpel, slicing through the façade she'd tried so hard to maintain. "You still love him."
Scarlett froze. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, and shook her head frantically.
"No… I don't love him anymore." Her voice trembled, as if she were trying to convince Alex—or maybe herself.
"If you really didn't love him, if you were really over him, you would've felt nothing when you heard he was out of danger." Alex looked at her, his gaze piercing. "Scarlett, hate is a form of caring. You hate him because you still care. He was willing to risk his life to protect you. When he wakes up, talk to him. Really talk. Don't let misunderstandings push you both into a dead end. Don't leave yourself with regrets."
Alex's words struck like thunder, cutting through the fog in Scarlett's mind.
She came to her senses.
She admitted it—seeing Brandon lying in a pool of blood, her heart had felt like it was dying. But so what?
Scarlett's hand slowly moved down, resting over her flat stomach beneath the hospital gown.