Chapter 263 You Must Take Good Care of Yourself

Chapter 263 You Must Take Good Care of Yourself

Jenna lifted her eyes to look at Edward.

"Most importantly, when we were young, our most sincere wish was simply for each other to be well. Back then, we didn't understand what love was, or what marriage meant. We just purely felt that the person across from us should be happy. Later, so many things happened, and that wish got buried under too much else. But now, digging it back up, it hasn't changed."

Edward's eyes completely reddened.

He lowered his head, roughly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. His shoulders trembled slightly, but he desperately tried to hold back the sobs.

After struggling for a while, he finally looked up again.

"I thought you'd hate me forever."

"I did hate you," Jenna said. "But not anymore. Hatred is too heavy. I don't want to carry it anymore, and you shouldn't either."

Edward's tears finally fell again.

He sniffled hard, trying desperately to hold them back, but the tears wouldn't obey. He raised his hand to wipe them away, but the more he wiped, the more came. Finally, he gave up and simply covered his face with both hands.

After a long while, Edward finally lowered his hands.

His eyes were impossibly red, his nose flushed, his face still streaked with tears he hadn't wiped clean. He looked utterly disheveled, yet he was smiling.

As if some stone in his heart had finally dropped—landing painfully, but bringing solid ground at last.

"You're a grown man. Stop acting like a child," Jenna said softly, shaking her head with a faint curve of her lips.

"Don't cry anymore. Mom will worry."

Edward sniffled and wiped his face again with the back of his hand, nodding firmly.

...

Night had fallen.

The Russell Corporation building stood empty, except for the light still burning in the top-floor executive office.

Edward sat in his chair, leaning back with his eyes closed.

The door opened.

Mark entered carrying a cup of freshly brewed tea. He set it on the desk and glanced at Edward's closed eyes.

He hesitated, about to leave quietly, when Edward's voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Has she left?"

Mark stopped and turned back.

"Yes. Evening flight. Mr. Miller went with her. Andy and Mrs. Mellon went back too."

Edward was silent for a few seconds, then opened his eyes.

He sat up straight and picked up the tea Mark had just made.

"Then go ahead and arrange it," he said.

Mark froze. "Mr. Russell, you mean..."

"She's gone. Some things need to be settled." Edward set down the teacup, his fingers resting on a document spread open on the desk.

"It's been dragged out too long. Dragging it out further won't do anyone any good."

Mark spoke with difficulty. "Mr. Russell, does it really have to be this way? Those matters—you could have left them alone."

"They're debts I owe," Edward cut him off.

He turned toward the window.

"I always thought these things could be resolved slowly. Wait until the Russell family was stable, wait until the company was on track, wait until Jennifer's situation died down, wait until everyone forgot. Wait until then, and I'd make amends, repay what I owed. But there's no such thing as 'until then' in this world. Every day you delay a debt, you add another day's interest. Jenna was right. It's too heavy to carry. I don't want to carry it anymore."

He turned back to Mark, suddenly smiling.

"Go ahead."

Mark stood silent for a long time, then looked at him deeply without further persuasion.

"Yes, Mr. Russell."

He walked to the door and placed his hand on the handle. Edward's voice came from behind him again.

"Mark."

"Yes?"

"Thank you. All these years—you've worked hard."

Mark stood at the door, his back to Edward, silent for two seconds.

"Not hard at all, Mr. Russell. See you tomorrow."

The door closed softly.

Edward sat in his chair a while longer, then stood, picked up his coat from the chair back, turned off the light, and left the office.

He drove to the hospital.

The nurse at the station looked surprised to see him at such a late hour.

He nodded at her and walked straight to the single room at the end of the corridor.

He pushed open the door. Samantha was propped up against the headboard, holding a book.

She looked much better than she had recently. The housekeeper said her appetite and sleep had both improved.

Hearing the door, she looked up, momentarily stunned, then smiled.

"Edward? What brings you here so late?"

Edward walked over and sat by the bed, draping his coat over the chair back.

"I missed you."

Samantha laughed, setting her book on the nightstand and playfully swatting his arm. "Always the sweet talker. You're a grown man saying things like that."

Edward smiled without arguing.

He placed a large bag he'd been carrying on the cabinet beside the bed and began taking things out one by one.

"This is a new heating pad. The nurse said your legs get cold at night—use this to warm them. These are wool knee warmers for rainy days. Don't complain they're ugly—you wear them under your pants anyway, nobody will see. And this..."

He pulled out a thermos and unscrewed the lid to show her.

"I tested this thermos. Water stays scalding hot for six hours. Stop using that old one—the lid leaks."

Samantha watched her son lay out each item before her, murmuring "I know, I know," but tears of joy were already forming in the corners of her eyes.

She took Edward's hand and held it in her palm, studying his face carefully. Her gaze suddenly turned tender and wistful.

"Edward, you seem different today."

"Different how?"

Samantha thought for a moment, gently patting the back of his hand. "I can't quite say. It just feels like you've let something go."

Edward didn't answer. He simply held his mother's hand, lowering his gaze to that hand, more aged than he remembered.

"Mom, go to bed early every night from now on. Don't worry about me or the company. Take your medicine on time. I wrote down your checkup dates in that green notebook—the nurse will remind you."

"Okay, okay." Samantha smiled and patted his hand. "Why are you so chatty today?"

Edward smiled without explaining.

He stayed in the room a long while, peeling an apple for his mother.

When Samantha took the apple, her eyes suddenly reddened, but she said nothing. She simply lowered her head and ate it, bite by bite.

As he was leaving, Edward stood at the door and looked back.

His mother had picked up her book again. The lamplight fell on her graying hair—peaceful and gentle, just as he remembered.

He watched for a few seconds, then quietly closed the door.