Chapter 142
Just past a corner, medical staff filed into the hospital room.
But Evelyn stopped in her tracks.
She saw Matthew sitting beside Marsha, whose eyes were tightly closed.
His shoulders sagged slightly, as if bearing an unbearable weight.
He held Marsha's hand.
That withered hand was almost completely bloodless. Like all the dying, every vein stood out in sharp relief.
Evelyn stood outside the door, her heart clenched by something invisible.
Matthew seemed to sense her presence and looked up.
Through the glass door, their eyes met.
The sorrow and loneliness in his gaze were so dense they seemed impossible to dissolve, making Evelyn's heart tremble.
She suddenly had a premonition.
Perhaps... today was the day.
She stood frozen, her heart lurching.
Matthew looked at her quietly. He didn't stand. He didn't call her in.
He just looked at her—like a drowning person seeing a distant light. Glowing, but out of reach.
What he was feeling now, Evelyn had experienced six years ago.
When her grandmother passed away, she'd handled all the funeral arrangements alone.
She'd called him, but he'd been abroad on business and coldly ignored every message.
He'd known nothing. Not how devastated she was. Not how she'd survived it all alone.
Evelyn lowered her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
She sat by Marsha's bedside and gently took that withered hand.
"My grandmother always talked about Mrs. Marsha Perkins and her accomplishments. I've always admired her."
"Even though this was unplanned, I still wanted to..." Her voice grew hoarse.
Before she could finish, Matthew let out a soft acknowledgment.
He looked utterly exhausted. He leaned lightly against Evelyn's shoulder, his forehead resting against the curve of her neck. No pressure. Just leaning.
Evelyn wanted to say something, but in the end, she simply sat there in silence, unmoving.
After a moment, Matthew straightened and turned to the doctor. "Give Grandma the last dose of painkillers."
The attending physician nodded, his expression complicated.
Soon, only the three of them remained in the room.
"Miss Gray, I know you're not Eve." Matthew's voice was low. "But Grandma has always had one lingering wish—to see Eve again."
"When the medication takes effect, Grandma should regain consciousness briefly."
"Could I ask you to pretend to be Eve, just this once, to fulfill her last wish?"
Evelyn nodded silently.
"Is anyone else coming?"
"No. No one's coming."
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
After Matthew used force to send Emma to a psychiatric hospital and acquired the Perkins Group, the last shred of unity in the Perkins family had crumbled.
Even before Marsha fell ill, the Perkins family had been teetering on the edge of collapse.
Matthew's grandfather had died young, leaving only two sons.
Marsha had faced predatory relatives alone and, through sheer willpower, held the family business together for decades.
The eldest son was brilliant. The younger son was gentle and sentimental.
She'd pinned her hopes on the eldest but had been unbearably harsh.
Her eldest son eventually took his own life, leaving no final words.
Her younger son—Matthew's father—had devoted himself to poetry, wine, and art. Marsha had always looked down on him.
It wasn't until Emma married in and displayed her business acumen that Marsha finally regarded the younger son's family with some respect.
Later, Matthew was born. Even as a child, he showed extraordinary talent.
Marsha had poured all her love and energy into him, raising him by her side for decades.
Now, the only person close to Marsha was probably Matthew.
A soft cough. Marsha stirred awake.
Her clouded gaze fell on Evelyn's face. Her breathing suddenly quickened.
A light flickered in those well-like eyes.
"Eve, is that Eve? You... came back?" Her voice was hoarse, uncertain.
"Mrs. Perkins, you're awake?" Evelyn gently held her hand.
"Eve, why did it take you so long to visit me? I've been waiting for so long..." Marsha's voice choked up, like a wronged child.
Tears streamed down Evelyn's face. "Mrs. Perkins, I'm so sorry. Mr. Perkins arranged so much work for me. I've been traveling abroad on business."
"Are you tired? Are you getting used to being abroad? You look so thin..." Marsha wanted to hug her but could no longer lift herself.
Understanding her meaning, Evelyn carefully helped her sit up against the bed, then gently leaned into her embrace.
The old woman's arms were light, her bones sharp, but the warmth made Evelyn's tears flow endlessly.
"I've missed you so much." Evelyn pressed her face against Marsha's hand, murmuring.
"It's good you're back. It's good you're back." Marsha's speech was already labored. Evelyn had to lean close to hear. "Eat more."
"I will. I'll eat lots and get nice and chubby!" Evelyn cried but forced a smile, trying to reassure her.
Marsha's loving gaze rested on Evelyn.
She knew her grandson's temperament had always been difficult. Evelyn must have suffered so much all these years.
"Eve," tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, her breath barely a whisper. "It's my fault. I didn't raise Matthew properly. You've been wronged so much. Can you forgive him?"
"He's a good boy. You're a good girl. Will you two stay together? Please?"
As she spoke, she suddenly coughed up blood.
Evelyn jolted in shock, crying and nodding. "Yes, yes, don't worry!"
Receiving Evelyn's answer, Marsha seemed to relax.
Her body slid down onto the bed. Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, as if looking at something far, far away.
"I'm coming to find you, Holden. Wait for me."
Holden Perkins—Marsha's eldest son.
She murmured, a smile crossing her lips.
Her breathing stopped.
"Mrs. Perkins? Mrs. Perkins!"
Evelyn called her name softly twice. No response. Tears poured from her eyes.
Matthew sat to the side, completely frozen.
The room fell utterly silent.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on Marsha's peaceful face.
A smile still lingered at the corner of her mouth, as if she'd finally waited for the person she longed to see, finally able to meet the one she'd been missing.
Evelyn held that gradually cooling hand for a long, long time, unable to let go.