Chapter 390 Selfish Love

"Isabella, can I talk to you for a sec?" Isabella had just stepped out of the hospital when someone suddenly appeared and blocked her way.

Her bodyguards immediately surrounded her, shielding Isabella from the unexpected visitor.

"Isabella, it's me, Wendy." the woman said urgently.

Isabella looked at the disheveled woman in front of her, trying to reconcile this image with the elegant and sophisticated bestselling author Wendy she once knew.

Wendy's face was bare, showing signs of aging, though her familiar features were still recognizable.

"Wendy?" Isabella asked, surprised.

Wendy nodded, her voice weak. "Can we talk privately?"

Penelope, one of the bodyguards, leaned in and whispered, "Mrs. Johnson, be careful. This could be dangerous."

Isabella turned to Wendy. "If you have something to say, you can say it here. If it's too personal, you can text me."

"It's nothing too important. I'm just worried about Vincent's health. You just came from visiting him, right? How is he doing?" Wendy asked with concern.

"Didn't you go in to see him?" Isabella asked curiously.

Wendy gave a bitter smile. "I wanted to, but Qiana instructed the hospital staff not to let me in."

Isabella suddenly remembered that Wendy used to work for Milan. Maybe she knew something about Rowan's memory loss.

"Step aside, please. I need to talk to Wendy alone." Isabella instructed the bodyguards.

Penelope grabbed her arm, shaking her head. "Mrs. Johnson, it's not safe."

"It's okay. Wendy won't hurt me," Isabella reassured her.

Reluctantly, Penelope and the bodyguards stepped back.

"Thanks for trusting me," Wendy said gratefully.

Isabella replied, "I'm not trusting you; I'm trusting Joshua. Michael always said Joshua was a kind person, so I assume his biological mother isn't a bad person either."

Wendy gave a bitter smile. "When I was young, my family was poor. I did whatever it took to survive. Right and wrong didn't matter; staying alive and keeping my family alive was all that mattered. I don't regret anything I did back then. Even now, I don't regret my decisions."

"Wendy, I'm not here to judge you." Isabella said.

"Thank you. It's rare to find someone who understands. Most people just judge me from their moral high ground without knowing my struggles." Wendy said.

"I wanted to ask you something else," Isabella said. "Since you worked for Milan, do you still have contact with him? Can you help me find out some information?"

Wendy laughed bitterly. "Isabella, you overestimate me and underestimate Milan."

"What do you mean?" Isabella asked, puzzled.

"Back then, even though we knew Milan was behind everything, it was Alfonso who gave me the orders. The first time I met Milan was when I accompanied Vincent to find him. Before that, I had never seen him," Wendy explained.

"I see," Isabella said, disappointed. She had hoped Wendy could help her get closer to Milan.

"But why are you asking about this now?" Wendy asked.

"You were there, so you must know that Milan's current wife is..." Isabella began.

"I know. I can't believe she would go to such lengths to get back at Vincent," Wendy said angrily.

Isabella scrutinized Wendy. "Do you really think she faked her death out of hatred for my father?"

"Milan said so himself. She was in the car, saw Vincent, and didn't get out. She didn't say it, but her actions spoke volumes," Wendy said defensively.

Isabella stared at her. "Do you really believe everything Milan said? Didn't you ever suspect he might be lying?"

"Why would he lie to us?" Wendy asked.

"To make my father give up and stop pursuing her. That's reason enough. Maybe she didn't get out of the car because she didn't recognize him." Isabella suggested.

"You think she lost her memory?" Wendy asked, her eyes widening.

Isabella nodded. "You must have suspected it too, right?"

Wendy's expression froze, revealing that Isabella had hit a nerve.

"You lived with him for so many years. Even if you thought you were right, your happiness was built on someone else's pain. You should have considered his feelings. True love isn't about possession; it's about wanting the other person to be happy. You know that better than I do." Isabella said.

"I did suspect it," Wendy admitted, lowering her head. "I never believed a word Milan said. When she sat in the car, watching us coldly, I thought she might have lost her memory and didn't recognize Vincent. But I didn't dare tell him. He was in a bad state, and knowing the truth would have made him keep pursuing her. Milan would have killed him. I just wanted him to live. Letting this mistake stand was the best for everyone."

"It was best for you and Milan, but it was cruel to the Johnson family. Your love is selfish, Wendy." Isabella said, turning to leave.

Wendy covered her face and wept.

Was her love selfish?

But wasn't love supposed to be selfish?

If she hadn't been selfish, how could she have kept Vincent with her for twenty years?

Everyone judged her, despised her, but all she wanted was to be with the man she loved.

What was so wrong about that?