Chapter 180

This hospital stay lasted even longer than Angela had expected.

By the time she was discharged, the weather had already turned cold.

Before heading abroad for treatment, the doctor finally agreed to let her leave for half a day.

The moment she walked out of the hospital doors, a fine drizzle hit her face, carrying the deep chill of midwinter.

Angela was wrapped in a thick cashmere blanket, sunken into her wheelchair.

Alan pushed the wheelchair with careful, gentle hands.

He leaned down slightly. "Angela, wherever you want to go today, I'll be right there with you."

Angela looked up at the grey sky and gave a small, self-mocking smile. "Let's go see Mom and Dad. Once I leave, who knows when I'll be back."

Alan's throat tightened, and his eyes went hot. He swallowed down the ache and nodded firmly. "Okay. Let's go."

Frances opened a black umbrella and held it close over Angela's head, making sure not a single drop of rain could reach her.

The three of them drove out to a cemetery on the edge of the city.

A light rain was falling, and the whole cemetery was wrapped in a pale grey mist, quiet and solemn.

Alan pushed the wheelchair while Frances walked alongside, holding the umbrella.

None of them said a word.

But when they finally reached Angela's parents' grave, all three of them stopped at the same time.

Not far ahead, a tall figure stood alone in front of the headstone, still and quiet.

He was wearing a black trench coat and holding a black umbrella. The fine rain had soaked through his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice.

His head was slightly bowed, eyes fixed on the photo on the headstone.

It was Lucas.

No one had expected to find him here.

Alan's expression darkened instantly. He was about to step forward when Angela raised her hand and stopped him.

Angela watched Lucas's back in silence. Through the curtain of rain, she could hear his voice, broken and unsteady, drifting from the grave.

"Dad, Mom... it's Lucas. I'm sorry. We've been married all this time, and this is the first time I've ever come to see you..."

His voice cracked with barely held-back tears, cutting clearly through the empty cemetery.

"I didn't take care of Angela. I let her suffer so much, go through so much pain. I'm a terrible person. But Dad, Mom, please watch over her. Please keep her safe on this trip to Novaria and bring her home. I swear, even if it costs me the entire Conway Group, even if it costs me my life, I will get her better. Please... don't take her from me. Let her stay..."

His broad shoulders trembled slightly as he bent toward the headstone, almost like a prayer.

Watching this, Frances couldn't hold back her tears. Alan still clenched his jaw in anger, but something complicated flickered in his eyes too.

Angela was the only one who stayed calm.

She didn't feel moved. She didn't feel anything at all. What she felt was absurdity — a kind of bitter, hollow irony.

Three years of marriage. Over a thousand days and nights.

How many times had she come here alone, on Qingming, on the winter solstice, clutching flowers, sitting by herself in front of her parents' grave, crying?

Where was Lucas then?

He was with Cora. He was busy with his overseas meetings. He watched her life from a distance and didn't care.

He didn't even know when her parents' death anniversaries were, let alone bother to visit.

And now, when she was nearly dying, he came here to confess, to make promises, to swear on the Conway Group.

Love that shows up this late doesn't mean much.

Angela pulled the corner of her mouth into a faint smile. The whole thing just felt pointless.

"Alan, let's go over." Angela said quietly.

Lucas stiffened at the sound of her voice and turned around, caught off guard.

The tears hadn't fully left his eyes. His face was full of shock and embarrassment.

He stood there in the rain, holding his umbrella, a few steps away, looking across at Angela in her wheelchair.

Lucas didn't leave. He just quietly stepped aside, making room at the center of the headstone.

Alan let out a cold scoff and pushed Angela forward.

Angela reached out and gently laid the white roses she'd been holding against the base of the headstone.

They were her mother's favorite flowers.

The rain wet the petals, and wet the young, gentle faces of her parents smiling in the photo.

"Dad, Mom," Angela looked at the photo, her eyes growing slightly damp, her voice soft.

"This might be the last time I come to see you. Maybe... it won't be long before I can be with you again."

She said it calmly, but it landed like a bomb.

"Don't say that!"

Almost in unison, three voices burst out with the same fear and urgency, shattering the quiet around the grave.

Alan, Frances, and Lucas, standing off to the side — all three of them, in that one moment, were perfectly in sync.

Every face wore the same look of panic and dread.

Angela was startled by their sudden outburst. She blinked, caught off guard.

Looking at the three of them, all rigid and wide-eyed like the world was ending, the sadness that had been sitting in her chest loosened just a little. She let out a tired, helpless laugh. "I'm not dead yet. At this rate, the three of you are going to scare me to death first."

Hearing her joke, the tension in the group eased slightly.

Lucas quietly stepped forward and crouched down beside Angela's wheelchair. He looked up at her, his eyes soft and careful, full of a tentative warmth.

"Angela, don't talk like that." His voice came out low and rough.

"I've got everything arranged for Novaria. The private jet leaves tomorrow. Today... I came here to visit your parents on your behalf, to talk to them a little. I didn't expect you'd come yourself."

"They are not your parents!"

Alan snapped immediately, shouldering Lucas aside and looking at him with cold contempt. "Lucas, have you no shame? Angela hasn't forgiven you. Stop trying to get close to her. It's disgusting."

Lucas stumbled back a step but didn't get angry this time.

He kept his eyes on Angela, though his words were directed at Alan.

"Angela and I are still husband and wife. We were, we are, and we will be. Even in death, we'll be buried side by side."

"You—!" Alan's face went pale with rage. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked, and he was already swinging.

"You shameless piece of trash. How dare you bring up being buried together? Do you think you deserve that?"

"Enough."

Watching the two of them about to come to blows again, Angela felt a throbbing in her temples. She pressed her fingers to her brow, exhausted.

"If you want to fight, take it outside. Not in front of my parents' grave."

Alan heard her voice and pulled his fist back.

He shot Lucas one last withering glare.

He wasn't about to cause a scene here, of all places.