Chapter 40 "Anna Is Truly Lost"
Nathan remembered the day he had rejected Anna in the hospital, recovering from his brain surgery.
She had been standing at the foot of his bed, her composure finally shattering into unhinged desperation.
"Is it because you don't love me? Is that why you can't marry me?" she had cried, her voice echoing off the sterile walls. "Or do you just think my desperate begging is pitiful? I told you, I don't need your love, Nathan! You don't have to love me! Can't you just do it for Mason? I’ll take perfect care of him, I swear!"
He remembered watching her cry, his shattered brain registering absolutely no pity or emotion. He had looked at her blankly.
"It's none of those things," he had murmured, staring at the ceiling. "I’m just afraid Chloe would be angry. You have no idea how violently she disliked you. If I accepted you, she would be absolutely furious."
Anna had stared at him in disbelief. "She has been dead for over a decade!"
"She's not dead. She'll come back," Nathan had answered with stubborn, terrifying certainty.
Anna had wiped her tears, her expression hardening into a bitter, resentful smile. "Fine. You win. You can keep waiting, you absolute fool."
After that, Anna vanished from his life for years.
Eventually, she was seconded from another renowned institute to collaborate on a crucial joint research project at his laboratory. Outwardly, she seemed to have moved on. But behind the scenes, she consistently found ways to shower Mason with gifts and attention.
Nathan wasn't blind. He knew she hadn't truly let go. She no longer spoke of romance, only of "the child's tragic plight" and her desire to act as a maternal figure. Because they shared the same academic mentor and worked in the same building, he couldn't exactly banish her from the premises.
Years passed in this lukewarm, heavily guarded state. Rumors constantly swirled through the academic community that Dr. Anna was his secret girlfriend, or even his fiancée. He clarified it to HR several times, but the gossip refused to die. Eventually, exhausted, he just let the rumors exist.
But then, Anna had crossed the ultimate line. She had driven to Chloe's apartment and weaponized those rumors, pretending to be his wife.
This needed to be permanently handled.
Nathan opened the frosted-glass door to Anna's office and stepped inside.
Bathed in the morning sunlight, Anna sat behind her sleek desk. She looked immaculate—flawless makeup, a dark green silk blouse radiating elegant efficiency. She looked up, offering a poised, professional smile. "What brings you to my side of the floor?"
"I'm taking annual leave," Nathan stated, his voice completely devoid of warmth. "If an emergency arises, contact Wayne."
"Annual leave?" Anna frowned, her pen stopping. "You didn't hear a rumor, did you? You aren't seriously going back out on the road to look for her again?"
Nathan paused. The hard lines of his face softened, and a gentle, profound smile broke across his lips.
Even at forty-two, when he smiled like that, his dark eyes caught the light, radiating a sudden, devastating joy. "No. I won't ever need to look for her again."
"Did you finally come to your senses?" Anna asked, a flicker of hopeful surprise crossing her features.
His next words plunged her directly into an ice cellar.
"She's back," Nathan whispered.
Anna froze. She stared at him in total astonishment. The raw, unfiltered excitement in his eyes was blinding.
"How is that possible?" Anna gasped.
"It's true," Nathan replied calmly. "She was the woman you approached last week."
"No. How could that be?" Anna stood up, her voice rising in sheer disbelief. "That girl looked like she was barely twenty!"
"Yes. It's her." Nathan briefly explained the medical anomaly of the twenty-three-year coma, pulling up the suppressed hospital reports on his tablet and placing it on her desk.
Anna stared at the screen. The reality of the unbelievable, supernatural truth finally crushed her.
All the strength violently drained from her legs. She sank back into her leather chair, raising a trembling hand to cover her face. "I'm ridiculous. I actually drove to her house and pretended to be your wife."
"You played the part well," Nathan said, his tone carrying the cold, detached tolerance of a man who had already won the war. "She fully believed you. She tried to break up with me to 'save my family'."
"Nathan... I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was her."
"It doesn't matter. But don't ever do anything like that again," Nathan warned, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. "You know exactly how I get when it comes to her."
Anna nodded weakly, a bitter, shattered smile touching her lips. Her gaze lingered on his face. "Congratulations, Nathan."
"Thank you."
His smile was just as bright, gentle, and effortlessly captivating as the first time she had seen it in the university library over twenty years ago.
Anna stared at him, a profound ache hollowing out her chest. She hadn't seen him smile like that in decades. It violently pulled her back to the fluttering, desperate hope of her youth.
Yet, she knew better than anyone on earth that this smile wasn't for her. It never had been. It belonged exclusively to the ghost he had spent his entire life chasing.
She heard him murmur a final goodbye. She watched him turn and walk out the door, without a single glance back.
As the heavy glass door clicked shut, Anna whispered to the empty room. "Goodbye."
This time, it was truly over. She didn't have a shred of delusion left to cling to.
Goodbye to the man she had fiercely loved since her youth. Goodbye to the impenetrable fortress she had wasted her life trying to breach. The twenty-year siege had finally ended. She had definitively, completely lost.
After officially handing over his laboratory data to his team, Nathan drove straight to his mansion. He packed a single duffel bag, booked two first-class tickets online, and drove the Bentley back into the city to pick up Chloe.
While idling outside her agency building, a long-forgotten, electrifying thrill surged through his veins.
It felt as though his heart, heavily medicated and dormant for twenty-three years, had suddenly been kickstarted. Blood rushed hot through his system. Unable to sit still, he stepped out of the car, leaning against the door frame, his dark eyes fixed eagerly on the building's entrance.
When he finally spotted her pushing through the revolving doors—her golden-brown hair bouncing as she practically skipped down the steps toward him—he found himself striding forward to meet her halfway.
Looking at her completely unchanged, radiant face, he was violently transported back in time. He used to wait for her exactly like this outside her college dorm, his chest tight with the exact same passionate, heart-fluttering anticipation.
Nathan took her bag, opening the rear door of the Bentley for her. Once she slid in, he climbed in beside her. "Did you get your PTO approved?"
"All set!" Chloe beamed. "Michael caved immediately. He practically shoved me out the door."
Nathan chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Flights and the hotel are booked. We're ready."
"Perfect!" Chloe agreed happily. Then, she leaned a little closer, her voice dropping into a teasing purr. "By the way... how many hotel rooms did you book?"
"Two," Nathan answered rigidly.
"What an absolute waste of money," Chloe teased, her hand casually dropping to rest on his thigh, her fingers lightly brushing against the expensive wool of his trousers.
Nathan’s entire body violently jolted. He shot a panicked, uneasy glare at the driver in the front seat. Seeing the privacy partition was up, he exhaled a ragged breath, grabbing her wandering hand and pinning it to the leather seat. "Sit still."
"Oh." Chloe covered her mouth, giggling wickedly, and obediently leaned back against the headrest. Yet her eyes never left him, tracking his every movement like a mischievous kitten plotting her next strike.
When they arrived at O'Hare International Airport, the departure terminal was a chaotic sea of rushing travelers.
A businessman sprinting toward security aggressively bumped into Chloe's shoulder. Nathan instantly lunged forward, grabbing her waist to steady her.
Once she regained her balance, Nathan began to pull his hands away—but Chloe immediately caught his right hand, weaving her fingers tightly through his.
Nathan froze. He tried to gently pull his hand free, but Chloe refused to let go. She tightened her grip and looked up at him with wide, pitifully innocent eyes.
"There are so many people," she whispered, stepping closer to his side. "I'm scared of getting lost in the crowd. You know I've barely flown before."
Nathan stared down at their locked hands, a violent war raging in his chest. Half of him was terrified of drowning in this intimacy, terrified of letting her too close before his inevitable medical decline. The other half absolutely did not have the strength to reject her touch.
In the end, his starved, touch-deprived heart won. He pressed his lips into a tight line, his broad shoulders shielding her from the rushing crowd as he safely guided her toward the TSA checkpoint, their hands firmly locked together.
Chloe glanced down at their intertwined fingers. She lifted her chin, a brilliant, triumphant smile spreading across her face.
She knew Nathan couldn't resist her. All his logical, psychological resistance was already crumbling to dust.
As they walked toward their gate, Chloe’s heart soared. This trip was going to change everything.