Chapter 159 Breaking Through Her Defenses
Nicholas raised his glass for the third time.
"This toast goes to Stella." His voice dropped lower, carrying a weight of regret. "I want to tell her I'm sorry. I came back too late."
Emma's fingers tightened around her wine glass, her eyes dimming.
"Yes, you did come back late," she said quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow. Then she looked up with a sudden bright smile. "But that's okay—at least we found each other again!"
She tilted her head back and drained her glass in one smooth motion.
They continued drinking, toast after toast—to Charlie, to FD, to the stars outside the window, to Dreamy Garden, to the Holy Tree...
Soon, both were thoroughly drunk, their cheeks flushed pink, eyes glazed with alcohol.
Nicholas disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a small cake with a single candle, decorated with a simple smiley face.
He turned off the dining room lights.
"Emma, come here." He beckoned to her with a gentle wave. "Make a wish."
She swayed over to him unsteadily. "I wish... I wish Nicholas lives to be a hundred years old!"
With that declaration, she blew out the candle in one breath.
They were plunged into darkness, with only the soft wall sconces providing a gentle glow.
"It's dark now. Time for bed." She stumbled toward the staircase.
Seeing her unsteady state, Nicholas strode forward and swept her up in his arms.
His own steps were slightly unsteady, but he held her securely as he climbed the stairs.
"Look, I'm flying!" Emma laughed as he carried her, her world turned upside down. She spread her arms wide, feeling weightless and giddy.
Nicholas felt dizzy too, but he kept his hold steady on the restless woman in his arms as he headed toward her room.
Inside, he switched on only a single bedside lamp that cast everything in soft, amber light.
The gentle illumination wrapped the room in an intimate, hushed atmosphere.
He gently placed her on the plush bed.
Emma's arms remained looped around his neck, refusing to let go. His clean, masculine scent mixed with the faint trace of wine filled her senses.
His tall frame loomed over her as he braced himself against the bed's edge, gazing down at her with eyes full of infinite tenderness and barely suppressed anguish.
"Take care of yourself from now on," his voice was rough, carrying a barely detectable catch. "Live for yourself."
He reached out, his fingers threading gently through her soft hair, touching her as if she were made of the most fragile porcelain.
Emma felt her nose sting, her eyes growing hot with unshed tears.
"Nicholas, you're not going to die, are you?"
"As long as I don't give permission, you're not allowed to die!"
She shouted defiantly, scalding tears spilling from the corners of her eyes.
Nicholas leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"I won't die. I promise."
"Don't cry." He bent closer, using his thumbs to gently brush away her tears, his touch infinitely gentle.
Half-drunk and half-awake, she mumbled incoherently: "Paper airplane... gone... I wanted to pick it up... all gone..."
She rambled like a lost child who couldn't find her way home.
Suddenly, she scrambled up from the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of rushing water echoed through the small space.
She stood fully clothed under the showerhead, letting the ice-cold water cascade over her, soaking through every inch of fabric until it clung to her skin.
Cold.
Bone-deep cold.
But even this shock couldn't clear her muddled mind.
Her chest felt compressed, as if a massive stone were weighing her down, making it impossible to breathe.
She tilted her face up to the spray, water streaming down and blurring her vision as she broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably.
Yes, she knew—their story was coming to an end.
The antidote. She couldn't create it.
There was no time left.
She might not be able to save him.
How could she bear to watch him die?
Guilt and agony tore at her heart simultaneously.
Nicholas rushed into the bathroom and found her like this—soaked to the skin, bedraggled, crying her heart out.
The sight felt like someone had carved a piece straight from his chest.
He quickly turned off the cold water and wrapped his arms around her from behind, sharing his body heat to warm her.
"Emma, don't cry. Please don't cry."
She turned in his arms to face him, tears falling like broken pearls. "I can't do it."
"What am I going to do? I can't do it."
"There's no time left... what am I going to do..."
"I don't want... you to die..."
Her head was fuzzy from drink, crying like a child as she poured out everything in her heart.
Nicholas held her close, gently rubbing her back. "Emma, sweetheart, don't cry."
"It's okay, it's okay." His own heart was breaking as he cupped her face in his hands, looking directly into her eyes. "In the next life, I promise I'll never forget you again. I'll never miss my chance with you again."
With that, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his.
Emma, weak and overwhelmed, clutched desperately at his neck like a drowning person grasping a lifeline.
He became one with her, possessing her completely once more.
It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Emma finally fell into an exhausted sleep, her breathing even and steady.
Nicholas lay still for a while, then suddenly felt as if his skull might split apart.
It hurt.
Sharp, relentless agony attacked from every direction, threatening to consume him entirely.
He staggered out of the room, barely managing to stay upright.
Nicholas didn't wake until noon the next day, his head thick and foggy.
When he opened his eyes, the world had gone completely black. He could see nothing.
"Charlie!" he called out sharply.
Charlie hurried into the room, carrying a hangover remedy on a tray.
"I can't see," Nicholas said with quiet devastation. Then he frowned. "Why do I feel so weak all over?"
"I'll get the doctor immediately," Charlie said, panic evident in his voice.
"No, don't bother." Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose, then asked suddenly, "Where's Emma?"
"Mrs. Harrison is still sleeping. She hasn't gotten up yet," Charlie replied quickly. "She had quite a lot to drink last night, too. I've prepared a hangover cure for her as well."
"Who was she drinking with yesterday? You?" Nicholas's expression darkened ominously.
Charlie's heart nearly stopped. Oh no—had Nicholas completely forgotten about last night? Wasn't this birthday dinner supposed to be a beautiful memory he'd deliberately created?
Had it all been for nothing?
Nicholas pressed his palms against his temples, but his mind remained completely blank.
Of the passionate night they'd shared, he remembered absolutely nothing...