Chapter 257

Chapter 257

Lyanna's hand trembled for a long moment before she slowly reached out and placed it over Sophia's.

"So... so Nicholas, he..."

Her voice was barely a rasp.

Sophia choked back tears and nodded. "He took the hit for me."

The room fell silent for a long time. Then Lyanna suddenly stood up, stumbled, and had to grab the edge of the bed to steady herself.

"I'm going to make him some soup," she said, a little frantically.

"I'll go right now. I'll make him something nourishing. All these years on his own... how much has he suffered..."

Sophia looked up and caught a glimpse of Lyanna's back as she walked away — hunched over, as if she'd aged several years in an instant.

It brought back a memory from many years ago, the first time Lyanna had met Nicholas.

Nicholas had been a young man then, full of fire and confidence, standing at their front door with two bottles of good wine in hand, bowing respectfully to Lyanna.

Lyanna hadn't been kind to him. She'd looked him straight in the face and told him he wasn't good enough for her granddaughter — that he came from too privileged a background, that he was too sharp, too calculating, and that Sophia would only end up suffering with him.

Nicholas hadn't said a word in his defense. He'd just stood there and listened to her lecture him for half an hour.

Over time, Lyanna had warmed up to him a little, but she'd never gone out of her way to do anything for him — especially not after she found out about Natalia, his first love. After that, she'd barely given him the time of day.

This was the first time Lyanna had ever prepared anything for Nicholas.

As she walked out, she lifted her sleeve and wiped the corner of her eye.

Sophia sat on the edge of the bed, watching Lyanna disappear through the doorway. Then she slowly curled into herself, hugging her knees, burying her face in her arms, and cried without making a sound.

After a long while, she finally straightened up, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and took a slow, deep breath.

She pulled out her phone and opened her conversation with Clarence.

His messages from last night were still there.

Everything she had once desperately wanted to know now felt like knives twisting in her chest, one after another.

No apology could be more sincere than paying with your life — but Sophia never wanted Nicholas to do that. Not any of it.

She stared at the messages for a long time, then slowly deleted them.

He hadn't wanted her to know.

He was such a proud man. And because of the mistakes he'd made in those earlier years, he'd been carrying the weight of them ever since, locked up tight inside him. That was why he hadn't wanted her to find out.

If he didn't want her to know, then she would pretend she didn't.

The older she got, the more she believed that sometimes it was better to turn a blind eye than to drag everything out into the open.

They weren't young anymore. Neither of them wanted to waste another moment. They just wanted to hold on to each other and make the most of whatever time they had left.

That evening, Sophia came home carrying the soup Lyanna had made for Nicholas.

Nicholas had spent the whole day at home with Eloise, and by all accounts, they'd had a wonderful time.

The moment Sophia stepped through the door, she noticed a small pile of sand in the front yard.

The two of them were right in the middle of it, having the time of their lives.

Eloise's little face was smeared with dirt — she looked like a tiny, scruffy cat.

Sophia couldn't help but smile. She walked over to them.

"Eloise."

"Mommy!"

Eloise's face lit up. She scrambled to her feet and ran over, throwing her arms around Sophia — but careful not to squeeze too hard because of the baby, so it came out as a gentle, hovering hug.

"Mommy, what took you so long? I missed you so much!"

Sophia laughed softly and bent down to ruffle Eloise's hair, then handed her the little cake Lyanna had sent along.

"Great-grandma made this for you. Go wash your hands first — look at you, you're covered in sweat."

"I'll take her for a bath," Nicholas said, pushing himself up with his crutch and making his way slowly over to Sophia. He noticed the insulated container in her hand.

"What's that?"

"Grandma made you some soup."

Nicholas blinked, then looked genuinely touched.

"She really didn't have to do that. You can get soup anywhere — please don't let her go to all that trouble next time. She's not young anymore."

Hearing his thoughtful words and thinking of his leg, Sophia felt her eyes start to sting.

Nicholas noticed right away. He could always tell.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

"Nothing." Sophia forced a light smile and brushed the corner of her eye with her finger.

"The wind was strong on the way here. Got something in my eye."

"Come inside then." Nicholas took her hand, and the two of them leaned on each other as they walked through the door.

In the dining room, Eloise had already washed her hands and was sitting in her little chair, carefully cutting up the cake.

"This piece is for Daddy," she murmured to herself. "This piece is for Mommy."

Sophia and Nicholas looked at each other and smiled.

The weather had been getting cooler, and the nights had a real chill to them now.

Sophia pressed herself closer to Nicholas in bed.

He gently tucked the blanket around her, then said quietly, almost to himself, "Time really flies. You're almost due."

"I know," Sophia said.

"The due date's coming up fast. And after that, Eloise can have her surgery too. I look up, and we're both in our thirties — almost forty, really."

Nicholas laughed. "You make yourself sound ancient."

"Well, it's true," Sophia said, nestling further into his arms.

"But no matter how old we get," Nicholas said, "you still look the same to me as you did the first time I saw you."

That woman in the white dress, standing not far from him, a little nervous, waiting to hear what he thought.

"Sophia," Nicholas said, "I'm a little scared."

"Of what?"

"Of the surgery not working. Of never being able to walk properly again. Of being a burden to you and Eloise. And of this body of mine..."

His eyes dimmed for a moment.

The doctors had told him years ago that the car accident had nearly taken his life, and that his body would carry the damage in ways that might not show up right away. He might seem fine when he was younger, but as he got older, those old injuries could flare up — and when they did, he might not be strong enough to handle it.

He was genuinely afraid he might leave Sophia too soon.

Every time that thought crept in, it left him feeling lost and helpless.

He hadn't planned to say any of this out loud. But with Sophia's due date getting closer, and his surgery date not far behind, the words had just slipped out tonight.

As soon as he said them, he regretted it. He was afraid she'd read too much into it, afraid she might start piecing together the truth behind the accident, and afraid of adding to the weight she was already carrying.

But Sophia reached up and pressed her hand gently over his mouth.

"Don't say things like that. You're going to live to be a hundred."

Nicholas turned to look at her. In the dark, her eyes were fixed on his, steady and deep.

"Listen to me, Nicholas. Don't put any of that pressure on yourself. Eloise and I both want you to have this surgery. Whether it works or it doesn't — all that matters is that you're okay. That's all we need."