Chapter 2

Tessa walked out of the law firm in a daze. Just then, a familiar black Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of her. The window slid down, revealing Clarissa's pretty face and Stanley's cold expresssion. "It's hard to hail a taxi here, Ms. Hill. Hop in. We'll take you home," Clarissa said in a friendly manner, though a hint of arrogance could be seen in her eyes. Tessa shook her head. "No, thank you—" "If she wants you to get in, then do it," Stanley coldly interrupted her. "Can't you understand simple words?" His harsh tone pierced her heart like an icicle. She clenched her fists, but she silently opened the door and slid into the back seat in the end. "I just got my license, Stanley. Let me drive for a bit, okay?" Clarissa volunteered eagerly. Stanley arched an eyebrow, his voice soft and permissive. "Alright. Just be careful." He fastened her seatbelt for her before getting into the passenger seat. Clarissa's driving was a little shaky, but Stanley showed not a hint of irritation as he guided her patiently, his gaze full of warmth throughout. "Jeez, the brake feels really stiff," Clarissa complained in a sweet voice. "Really? Let me see." Stanley leaned over, his cheek almost brushing against her leg as he checked the brake pedal. The scene in front was hard to watch for Tessa, who was in the back. She felt like her heart was being crushed, and it was so painful it hurt to breathe. All that tenderness and attention he once reserved solely for her now belonged to someone else. Suddenly, a stray cat darted across the road out of nowhere. Clarissa screamed. In her panic, she accidentally stepped on the gas pedal instead of hitting the brakes. The car shot forward like a wild horse, smashing through the roadside guardrail and hurtling toward the river below. They were instantly hit by a disorienting sense of weightlessness. "Claire!" In that split second, Tessa clearly saw that Stanley's first reaction was to throw himself toward the driver's seat and use his body to shield Clarissa. He didn't even glance back at her. The freezing water poured into the car from all around, a suffocating pressure enveloping them. Tessa felt her heart shatter with pain and turn ice-cold all at once. Before, whenever danger struck, she had always been the first person he would rush to protect, but now… The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her was Stanley clutching Clarissa tightly as they struggled toward the surface. When she came to in the hospital, the pungent smell of disinfectant hit her immediately. Tessa could hear Stanley's voice coming from outside. His voice, heavy with barely controlled rage, seemed directed at the doctor. "She merely fell into the water! Why is she still unconscious? Do you even know how to treat her?" With a cautious tone, the doctor answered, "Mr. Frey, please calm down. Ms. Hill's unconscious state isn't solely the result of drowning… The full examination report indicates she has late-stage malignant—" The sentence was cut short as a nurse rushed over, saying, "Mr. Frey, Ms. Sutton has woken up and has been asking for you." Stanley was about to speak when his eyes met Tessa's. The worry that had been etched on his face because of her unconscious state vanished instantly, replaced by an icy calm. He grunted in acknowledgment to the nurse. Without sparing another glance at Tessa, he decisively turned on his heel and strode toward the far end of the corridor. Watching him walk away with unwavering resolve, Tessa felt like her heart was being hollowed out, allowing the cold wind to pour in. Perhaps it was better that he didn't know she was dying. With how much he hated her now, even if he knew she was about to die, he would probably just sneer, thinking it was her karma. The sunlight was blinding on the day she was discharged. Stanley, unsurprisingly, didn't come for her. He was spending time with the shaken Clarissa on his private island. Returning to the cold, empty villa she called "home", Tessa began getting her affairs in order. First, she went to a long-established photography studio. "Miss… Do you really want to have a funeral portrait taken?" the elderly photographer asked as he adjusted his glasses. He confirmed it with Tessa three times, disbelief and sorrow written all over his face. Tessa nodded calmly, offering a faint smile. "Yes, I do." The camera captured her pale but still refined face, though her eyes, once bright, were now dull and lifeless. Next, she selected an urn. Rows of ornate containers made of various materials and expensive beyond reason lined the shelves. In the end, she chose a simple, unadorned white porcelain urn. Its smooth, cold surface mirrored the chill in her heart. Finally, she went to the Evercrest Cemetery. She wanted to be buried beside Alexis. When Alexis was still alive, they often joked about sharing a retirement home in their old age, going on long walks together, and even being neighbors in the afterlife so they could keep playing cards. It didn't take long for Tessa to find Alexis' gravestone. The woman in the photo smiled radiantly, eternally frozen at the peak of her youth. Tessa knelt, gently brushing away the dust on the photo with her fingertips. Her throat tightened. "Alexis, I'm here." Her soft murmur echoed the countless nights they had spent whispering to one another. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come see you… I'll be there with you soon… Are you lonely over there?" She talked about her illness, her regrets, Stanley's hatred toward her, and his indulgence toward the woman who resembled her. Tears fell silently, striking the cold stone. Suddenly, a steady and familiar set of footsteps could be heard. Tessa stiffened, slowly turning her head. Stanley and Clarissa stood nearby. He had a bouquet of white lilies, Alexis' favorite flowers.