Chapter 189 Dreaming about the Future

A faint itch crept across my cheek as her fingers gently brushed against it. Her touch was soft, like a spring breeze, but her words carried an undercurrent of sharpness I couldn't ignore. "Owen, I had a dream about Lila disappearing. You got seriously ill because of her," she said. "I feel like things in my dreams are like glimpses of the future. But why? The you in my dreams feel like a completely different person. The paths don't align. So what is it? Did the dream go off course, or have you changed?" My head was a foggy mess from the fever, and I barely registered her words before I drifted off to sleep again. The next morning, the sky was so overcast it looked like it could wring water out of the air. I was woken by a series of rapid knocks at the door. Outside, Clover's voice called out, "Hey, are you in there?" My throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper, and my head was still heavy with sleep. Replying on pure instinct, I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled to open the door. Standing there was Clover, grinning from ear to ear. "Ta-da! I'm here to take you home!" Her cheerful announcement faltered as soon as she got a good look at me. Her smile froze, and her face twisted in concern. "Owen, you look terrible! Are you sick?" she asked, stomping her feet in frustration. "Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather. Probably the flu. Put on a mask—don't let me pass it to you," I coraked. Obediently, Clover pulled out a mask and secured it over her face. I collapsed back onto the bed, still feeling weak and out of sorts, though slightly better than the night before. At least the fever wasn't making me sweat one moment and shiver the next. "Why'd you come so early?" I asked, coughing a little. "I wanted to get you home sooner. Cole's house is amazing—it's a huge estate with all kinds of flowers planted everywhere," she said excitedly while reaching out to touch my forehead. "You still feel feverish. Should we head to the hospital, or go home and let Cole get a doctor and check on you?" I didn't want to move. In the back of my mind, I was still debating whether I should visit Lila. But after some thought, I realized it would be pointless to see her while I was like this. It was probably better to stay home and recover for a few days. No need to spread my misery to others. Suddenly, a thought struck me. I jolted upright, and ignored the sharp pain in my throat. "Did you see Yvette?" "Yvette? You mean your ex-wife? Nope, I haven't seen her," Clover replied casually as she began packing my suitcase and tidying up the clutter on my bedside table. "Was she here? How would she even know you're staying here?" Last night, through the haze of my fever, I could've sworn I saw her. Confused, I muttered, "She said… this is her hotel. She probably looked up my reservation." Clover frowned. "Why would she go out of her way to track you down?" Then, as if a thought suddenly dawned on her, she glanced at me with a strange expression, holding up the box of medicine in her hand. "Wait… Don't tell me she found out you're sick and came here to take care of you? That'd be wild. Everyone says she's this cold-hearted woman, but maybe she still has feelings for you?" Her teasing gaze made my chest tighten. I coughed violently, unsettled by the memories of the night before. If Yvette did come here to look after me, that would be more shocking than the sun rising in the west. Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine. Last night, my fever had me so out of it that I hadn't realized how strange the situation was. But now, in the light of day, the idea of her coming to take care of me felt downright terrifying. After all, we had gone our separate ways long ago. Besides, we'd had a full-blown argument just that morning. She should hate me to the core. Why would she suddenly care about me—or worse, want to take care of me? The whole thing felt so off. "Hand me the medicine," I said abruptly. "Here," Clover passed me the box. I examined it carefully. It was just the few boxes of cold medicine I had bought earlier. No ibuprofen. No fever patches. Last night, I ate soup, too. If she had really been here, the bowl should still be somewhere. But there was nothing. "Maybe I was just delirious from the fever and mixed up dreams with reality,"I muttered, coughing again to clear my throat. Clover smirked, clearly entertained. "Dreaming about your ex-wife, huh? They say you dream about what's on your mind. Don't tell me you're still not over here!" "Stop joking around," I retorted. "I've been over her for ages. Just help me check out of this room so we can head home." "Got it," she said with a wink and went along with it. Reaching for my phone, I was relieved to find it sitting right beside me. Last night, I had been convinced she had hidden it, but there it was, just lying there. Finally, I let out a long sigh of relief. "Guess it really was all in my head…" Back when I first got a second chance at life, I used to daydream about Yvette falling for me. I imagined making her taste the bitterness of unrequited love, just like I had. But after our divorce, she said one thing that hit harder than anything else. "I don't chase after what I don't want, Owen. But if I ever regret letting you go, you better watch out." She was brutally honest back then. Yvette wasn't an ordinary person. She had wealth, talent, influence—everything. Born into a powerful family, a legend in the business industry, she had amassed unimaginable success before even turning 30. Her future was limitless. All I wanted was a quiet life, to take care of my family and rebuild the business my father ruined. I didn't want revenge, and I definitely didn't want to provoke her. Messing with Yvette was a risk no one should take. Just ask Randall—he had learned the hard way. She was ruthless, obsessive, and terrifying when crossed. It wasn't that I lacked the guts to go against her. She was just too damn good at what she did—lucky, resourceful, and relentless. Unless I dragged the entire Jackman family into the fight, there was no way I would stand a chance against her. But why would I be selfish like that? The Jackman family didn't owe me anything. They had already given me more support than I deserved. Dragging them into a fight with a powerhouse like the Jennings? That would be downright immoral. Besides, my grudge with Yvette in my past life was simple. She didn't love me, and I couldn't let go of her. There was no need to turn it into some all-out war. It was better if we stayed out of each other's way. I just hoped she didn't have any wild ideas. Because whatever she wanted, I couldn't give it to her.