Chapter 143
Feeling Marsha's life slip away, Evelyn covered her mouth and cried silently.
Matthew stood in silence and went to handle the funeral arrangements.
He summoned the staff waiting nearby to prepare Marsha's body.
Evelyn stood to the side, watching as that peaceful face was carefully tended to, feeling hollow inside.
Around the same time, Limbo Inc. released a statement announcing Marsha's passing.
During her lifetime, Marsha had been known in the business world as the "Iron Lady." Her death prompted an outpouring of remembrance and condolences.
The memorial service and burial were scheduled for that weekend.
After escorting Marsha to the funeral home, it was already late at night.
Evelyn and Matthew left the funeral home together. Her eyes red, she bid him farewell and turned to leave.
Matthew watched her retreating figure, his gaze darkening.
Then he coughed lightly, stumbled a few steps, and braced himself against the wall to keep from falling.
"What's wrong?" Evelyn turned at the sound and saw Matthew looking utterly exhausted and haggard.
"It's nothing. I'm just tired from today." Matthew said weakly, coughing a few more times and lightly pressing his hand to his stomach.
Evelyn noticed the gesture and frowned. "Your stomach condition's acting up. Did you skip meals today?"
Matthew nodded lightly. "I really couldn't eat anything."
He paused, his voice dropping lower. "Miss Gray, I have an unreasonable request. I don't think I'm in any shape to drive. Could you possibly take me home?"
"How about I call you a rideshare driver?" Evelyn suggested tentatively.
Matthew's expression grew more pained, as if someone had stabbed him in the heart.
His lashes trembled. He lowered his eyes, his voice muffled. "Never mind. I don't want anyone seeing me like this."
"I'll just... drive myself back."
He turned and started walking, but after a few steps, his legs gave out again.
"Fine, fine, I'll take you." There was resignation in Evelyn's tone, but she quickly stepped forward and steadied his arm.
Evelyn helped Matthew into her car.
Instead of sitting in the back like before, Matthew went straight to the passenger seat.
Evelyn paused but said nothing and started the car.
Matthew soon drifted into a drowsy sleep.
Since she was using Matthew's phone for navigation, Evelyn didn't pay much attention to the route.
But as she drove, something felt off.
When familiar streets appeared before her, she suddenly realized.
This route—it was leading to that apartment.
Matthew still lived there?
She'd assumed he'd moved into the villa with Sloane.
Or was he just putting on a show in front of her?
She had to admit, her curiosity was piqued.
She wanted to know what that apartment looked like now.
Soon, the car entered the underground parking garage.
To her shock, the gate recognized her license plate in advance and smoothly lifted the barrier.
She froze.
When had he programmed her plate into the system?
But he'd been calling her "Miss Gray" all day, so politely distant. She couldn't bring herself to ask.
"Which building do you live in?"
"Building Three." Matthew said quietly.
Evelyn pretended not to know the way, circling around a few times before slowly parking beneath Building Three.
"Thank you for bringing me back." Matthew unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at her. "Will you come to Grandma's memorial?"
"I don't think I will." Evelyn lowered her eyes, her voice soft.
She knew memorial services attracted all kinds of people.
She and Matthew had so much history. She didn't want this face to become gossip fodder again.
Matthew's gaze dimmed, but he said nothing more.
He got out of the car.
Evelyn hesitated but decided not to follow him up.
She didn't really have any standing to do so.
She turned on her signal, about to drive off, when a dull thud sounded behind her.
Through the rearview mirror, she saw Matthew collapsed on the ground, unconscious.
She quickly parked again, locked the car, and rushed over to help him. "Mr. Perkins, are you okay? Wake up!"
Hearing her voice, Matthew stirred awake.
He tried to get up. "I'm fine. Just tired. I'll be okay after some rest. You should go."
He said that, but his face was full of barely suppressed pain, one hand clutching his stomach.
"I'm taking you to the hospital!" Evelyn moved to help him into the car.
"I don't want to go to the hospital... I have medicine at home."
Home? This apartment?
Matthew was probably confused and misspoke. How could he possibly consider this place home?
"I'll help you upstairs." Seeing his condition, Evelyn couldn't just leave him.
"Then I'll trouble Miss Gray." Matthew lay on the ground a bit longer before weakly extending his hand to her.
He didn't want to seem too eager, afraid she'd realize he was faking.
Just as Evelyn was about to help him up, a voice came from behind.
"Sir, what happened to you?"
She turned to see the flower shop owner.
"My stomach's acting up. Fortunately, this lady helped me up." Matthew's voice was faint.
The florist quickly set down her flowers and helped Evelyn support Matthew.
Matthew's expression darkened. He didn't want anyone else's help.
The three of them entered the elevator together.
Once in the bright light, the florist finally got a clear look at Evelyn. "Oh, it's you! Did your daughter like the flowers you bought last time?"
Evelyn froze. With Matthew right there, she quickly composed herself and smiled. "She loved them."
Matthew's heart lurched. He snapped his gaze to her.
Evelyn's expression gave nothing away.
Daughter.
She already had a daughter?
Before he could process this, the florist smiled at Matthew. "Sir, last time you bought flowers, I mentioned a lady had already bought the yellow roses—it was this lady here."
"And ma'am, the gentleman I told you about who orders flowers from me regularly—that's him!"
"What a coincidence running into both of you today. Well, I'd better go deliver these flowers!"
The florist hurried out of the elevator with her bouquet.
Only the two of them remained in the silent elevator.
"You have a daughter." Matthew's voice was hoarse.
"Yes."
"...How old?"
"Two."
Matthew said nothing more.
But Evelyn felt a dangerous tension radiating from him, suffocating.
The elevator reached the top floor.
Matthew stepped out first.
Evelyn hesitated, not following. "Mr. Perkins, I won't come out."
"You came all this way. Won't you come in for a bit?" Matthew said flatly.
"No, thank you." Evelyn stayed put and reached for the door-close button.
But Matthew jammed his hand between the doors and, without asking, grabbed her wrist with his other hand.
His stride was quick and steady—nothing like the sickly appearance from moments ago.