Chapter 272: If There Is a Next Life, I Still Want to See You Again

Jenna knew that footstep too well.

She had heard it countless times in Russell Corporation's office building.

Mark stood behind her, his eyes swollen beyond recognition, his suit wrinkled, his tie askew—clearly he had rushed over overnight after receiving the news.

After a long moment, Jenna finally lifted her head.

The instant she saw him, all her grief found an outlet.

She lunged forward, grabbing his collar and shaking him violently.

"Why didn't you stop him? You knew—you knew exactly what he came to Eldoria to do! You've been with him for ten years. You knew everything. Why didn't you stop him!"

Mark stumbled back under her force, his back hitting the cold corridor wall. He didn't dodge or defend himself.

He kept his head down as tears silently slid from behind his glasses, dripping onto the manila envelope in his hands.

"I did try to stop him," Mark said hoarsely.

"I tried at the airport, in his office, during every phone call. I begged to come with him. He refused. He said I was still young, unmarried, with my whole life ahead of me. He said I couldn't throw it all away on him. He said..."

He choked up, removing his glasses to roughly wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

"He said the debt he owed had to be repaid. He said this was the last thing he could do for you."

Jenna's grip on his collar loosened. All strength drained from her body as she staggered backward.

Ethan caught her from behind, pulling her into his arms, his palm stroking her violently trembling back.

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing her heart out.

A long time passed before Jenna's crying gradually subsided.

She lifted her head from Ethan's embrace. Her eyes were so swollen she could barely open them, but she still turned toward Mark.

Mark stepped forward and held out the manila envelope.

On it, in Edward's handwriting: Jenna.

Mark's hand began to tremble again, but he steadily placed the envelope in Jenna's hands.

"Mr. Russell left this for you before he departed. He said once you read it, you'd understand everything."

Jenna's hands shook as she took the envelope.

Seeing the handwriting made her heart clench.

It was Edward's, unmistakably.

She knew his writing too well.

Since their teenage years, she'd thought Edward's handwriting was distinctive—each stroke carrying a stubborn refusal to bow down, just like the rebellious boy in her memory.

She sat down on a bench outside the morgue and slowly tore open the envelope.

Inside was a thick stack of letter paper, covered in dense handwriting.

Some places showed corrections; in others, the ink had been blurred by water droplets.

She didn't know if it was water, or something else.

The paper was Russell Corporation's official letterhead, with the dark gray logo in the upper left corner—as if telling her he had written this in his office, during those late nights when she thought he was simply working overtime, writing his remaining life into these thin sheets, word by word.

The first page began with just one line:

[Jenna, by the time you read this letter, I'll already be gone.]

Jenna's fingers clenched the edge of the paper.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat, making herself continue reading.

[I'm sorry to say goodbye this way. I know you'll call me foolish, ask why I didn't tell you. Just like last time at the restaurant when you asked why I kept everything bottled up inside. I can't change. You know me—I've been stubborn my whole life. The more I care about something, the harder it is to say it out loud. But at least I can write it down. Written words won't fail me.

I've made many mistakes in my life. Some were unintentional, some came from cowardice, some from selfishness. I once had the best thing in the world—your trust, your patience, your unreserved affection that started when we were so very young. But I let it slip away. I lost you. That's my biggest regret in this life, bar none.]

Jenna suddenly remembered their high school days—that boy lying in a hospital bed, complaining about not wanting to study, yet forced by her to pick up his books anyway.

Back then, she thought maybe he liked her a little too, otherwise he wouldn't have listened to her. Maybe he was just too shy to say it.

What she didn't know was that he had saved all those unspoken words for this letter.

[The thing I've done most in my life is run away. Run from my father's harassment, from my mother's tears, from your waiting. I thought if I ran far enough, fast enough, those debts wouldn't catch up with me. But in the end, they did. In the dead of night, one by one, they surged over me like a tide, drowning me. I know how much I owe. I know I can never repay it all.

You said you forgave me. You said it was all in the past, told me to look forward.

But when I looked forward, what did I see?

I saw you nearly dying under Jennifer's knife. I saw Andrew still lurking in the shadows, watching you.

I saw those people like vultures, waiting to swoop down and tear you and the child apart.

I know Ethan will protect you. He's a thousand times, ten thousand times better than me.

But I still wanted to do something for you.

Not as compensation—compensation is too light a word for what you've suffered. But willingly.

So I came.

Perhaps I'll never see you again, but I don't regret it.

Because whenever I think of Andrew's name, I remember you in that abandoned factory, cornered by Jennifer with a knife at your throat.

I remember you holding Andy, waking from nightmares in the middle of the night.

I remember those things he said about you.

Those filthy, disgusting things that made me want to tear him apart.

I originally planned to walk calmly into his parlor, draw him out, gather evidence, then hand it to the police.

But when I uncovered his entire background and all the details, I realized in that instant—none of that would keep you safe.

So I had to see him myself.

Jenna, don't grieve for me.

Even in death, I believe I'll go peacefully—more peacefully than any other day of my life.

I'm not crazy.

Quite the opposite. I'm more clearheaded now than I've ever been. I've done too many foolish things in my life, but this isn't one of them. This is the most lucid decision I've ever made, and the most willing.

If you're willing, don't hate me. Don't feel you owe me anything.

You owe me nothing—you never have. It was I who owed you, and I've repaid it in the way I thought best. You don't have to be afraid anymore.

From now on, the Howard family won't have anyone watching you. The real Charles will be taken away by the police.

You and Andy are safe. That's all I wanted—the only ending I needed.]

[Jenna, if it's possible, in the next life, I'd like to see you again. Even if you're no longer my wife, that would be enough. You waited for me a lifetime. Next time, it'll be my turn.]