Chapter 8

Carlton's hand on the steering wheel paused. “What did you say?” Flora turned to look at him and realized that his gaze had been fixed on Calista's car ahead. He hadn't been listening to her at all. She was sitting right next to him, but it was as if she were invisible. She opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Carlton's expression suddenly changed. “Calista!” Calista's car ahead suddenly lost control, swaying left and right on the highway. Carlton abruptly lowered the window: “Calista! Slow down!” “The brakes are failing!” Calista leaned out the window, her voice trembling with tears, “Carlton! What should I do!” As Calista’s red sports car was about to plunge off the riverbank, Carlton suddenly stepped on the gas pedal and jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right— “Bang!” The black sedan blocked the red sports car’s path, and the screeching sound of metal colliding echoed along the riverbank. The immense impact caused both cars to deform, and the airbags deployed instantly, slamming into Flora’s face. The impact of the airbag caused her to briefly lose consciousness. When she opened her eyes again, the windshield had shattered into a spiderweb pattern, the smell of gasoline filled the cabin, and black smoke began to billow from the front of the car. “Carlton!” She forced herself to push the man in the driver's seat awake despite her dizziness, “Wake up! The car is going to explode!” Carlton had blood trickling down his temple, but he immediately looked toward the twisted, deformed red sports car ahead. “Calista… Calista…” His voice trembled as he violently kicked open the door and rushed out. Flora limped after him, each step feeling like walking on a knife’s edge, but she couldn’t stop. Calista’s door was deformed, and Carlton couldn’t open it alone. “Get out of the way!” She picked up a stone from the roadside and smashed it against the window. As the glass shattered, Carlton had already leaned inside and unbuckled Calista's seatbelt. Blood kept flowing from Calista's forehead, staining Carlton's white shirt red. He carried her toward the ambulance as if she were the most precious treasure in the world. In the hospital corridor, Carlton's white shirt was splattered with blood. He stood at the operating room door, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, unable to steady the water the nurse handed him. Half an hour later, the operating room door burst open. “The patient has a ruptured kidney and needs an immediate transplant,” the doctor hurried out, “but she’s RH-negative, so finding a kidney donor is difficult…” “I got the same blood type.” Carlton stood up abruptly, “Use mine.” Flora stood outside the operating room, watching Carlton sign the donation consent form without hesitation. “Carlton...” She opened her mouth, but realized she had no right to object. In his heart, Calista's life was far more important than her concerns. The doctor continued to persuade: “Mr. Davis, your injuries are also severe; forcing a kidney donation carries significant risks...” “I'll take full responsibility if anything goes wrong.” Carlton signed the form, his voice calm to the point of being unsettling. “There's one condition: she must be saved.” He turned to look at Flora, his expression serene as if making final arrangements: “If I die, do three things for me.” “First, keep it from Calista.” “Second, tell my parents it was my own decision and has nothing to do with Calista.” “Third...” He paused, his voice finally showing a hint of emotion, “Tell my brother to treat her well... I wish them happiness.” With that, he walked into the operating room without looking back. Flora stood there, tears silently falling to the ground. Three final words, They were about Calista, yet not a single one about her. The operating room light stayed on for five hours. Flora stood motionless in the corridor until the doctor opened the door— “The surgery was successful. Both of them are out of danger.” The weight on her heart finally lifted, and just as she was about to step forward, everything suddenly went black, and she collapsed heavily. Before losing consciousness, she heard the nurse exclaim, “Goodness! She has three broken ribs and a bleeding spleen. How did she manage to hold on this long?!” … Flora opened her eyes, the blinding white light causing her to squint slightly. “You’re finally awake!” Calista sat by the bedside, her face still pale but her spirits high. “Flora, why are you so foolish? You’re so badly injured but you didn’t say anything…” Flora took a moment to compose herself before recalling what had happened before she fainted. She opened her mouth, her voice hoarse: “Where’s Carlton?” Calista sighed helplessly: “He went to make soup for me.” Flora’s heart skipped a beat. He went to make soup? The young master of the Davis Family, who had never done any manual labor, had just donated a kidney and then went to make soup? She could almost picture the scene: Carlton, struggling to stay upright despite his weakness, awkwardly tending to the pot, all to prevent Calista from feeling guilty once she learned the truth. He didn't want to tell Calista that the kidney was his, so he pretended to be fine, weaving a perfect lie to let her accept the gift without guilt. How much does he... love her?