Chapter 17 Goodbye

Suddenly, John's heart ached fiercely, causing him to involuntarily curl up in pain. "John, are you okay?" Ryan asked anxiously, supporting him. Something flashed through John's mind, and he looked up and ran forward a few steps, but there was no one there. He felt somewhat dazed, unable to recall what he had just thought of or what he had intended to chase after. ... Two days later, John returned to New York. Margaret visited him and informed him that Edward was ill. Edward was a stern father who rarely smiled at John and was particularly strict with him. John remembered being afraid of him when he was young. It gradually dawned on him later that sometimes a father's love is silently expressed. He just didn't know how to articulate it, choosing a relatively stiff way of interacting. John visited the hospital where Edward lay on the hospital bed, looking thinner. What once seemed a tall father had somehow shrunk to be shorter than John. He once viewed his father as a mountain, but mountains also have days of exhaustion. Edward smiled at John and said, "Son, I don't know how much longer I can hold on. I'm handing over the Jones family to you. You've had a tough time." Edward felt sympathy for John, who was still young and burdened with such a heavy responsibility. But a man must bear his own burdens. John did well, and Edward felt proud to have such an outstanding son. Edward reached out and held John's hand, looking at John's gaunt face and softening his usually stern voice. "John, don't blame yourself." No one's life is perfect, and everyone makes mistakes. John wasn't a bad person, and he knew it better than anyone. "Sophia won't blame you," Edward squeezed his hand. John's thin lips tightened. "You too..." He smiled at John, "let it go." This guy had a stubborn streak and tended to dwell on things. It was uncertain when he would move on from this incident. John left the hospital room, leaning against the cold wall inside. The smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils, and John closed his eyes. He quickly composed himself and sat down beside his mother, patting her back gently and letting her lean into his embrace. The woman who usually loved to laugh sobbed quietly in his arms. ... Half a month later, Edward passed away from his illness. The day of the funeral, it poured with rain. Edward was well-liked, and many people came to pay their respects. John wore a black suit and stood aside. After the funeral, John escorted the coffin. Another year passed. John took Sophia to Lhasa. His entertainment company was thriving, and Olivia's first post-partum comeback was a major IP drama, eagerly anticipated by everyone. Nicholas won the Best Actor award. Olivia gave birth to a son whose eyebrows and eyes resembled Nicholas, while his nose and mouth took after Olivia. The child was adorable, and John sent a generous red envelope through someone. At the Brown residence. Emily was forced to sit at the dining table; she had gained some weight. "I'm not eating!" She pushed the plate and utensils in front of her to the ground, shattering them into pieces. The servant was scared and helpless; Miss Sophia had always been temperamental. The sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and Emily began to tremble uncontrollably upon hearing it. After her release from prison, William brought her to his place. He promised to pay for her mother's medical expenses. No one else was willing to help her due to her criminal record. For her mother's sake, she agreed to William's marriage proposal. William was crazy. What bothered Emily was that whenever William looked at her, she felt like he was seeing someone else. If it were the old William, Emily thought she could be with him. But the Browns were now completely broke. "Not eating?" William threw his suit onto the sofa. He was swamped with work, trying to rebuild his fortune. Emily tightened her lips and remained silent. "You're not being good," William gestured for the servant to bring another set of utensils and sat beside Emily, holding her cold hands. "You can't catch a cold, do you understand?" William gazed at her chest. Every time he looked at her like this, Emily felt a shiver run down her spine. "Why do you never let me eat cold food?" Emily bit her lip. William's eyes were devoid of warmth. He removed his glasses and rubbed his temples. "You have a heart condition," he said, his thin lips curling up. But Emily could clearly see that the smile and concern were not for her. The servant brought a new set of utensils, and Emily threw another bowl to the ground. She stood up abruptly, "Are you treating me as Sophia's substitute?!" Emily was shaking with anger. William's eyes hardened. He stood up and said with thin lips, "Sophia's heart is inside you. You must protect it." "Emily, you have no right to be angry." "I don't want this!" Emily was driven to the brink of madness. Heart, heart! It's all about this heart! Can I just get rid of it? Emily bent down to pick up a shard of porcelain, but William snatched it away from her. He held her wrists and dragged her upstairs, tying her to the bedpost. William left the bedroom to get some food and came back. Emily burst into tears. William ignored her and sat beside her, spooning food into her mouth. "Open your mouth." Emily sobbed, her eyes closed tightly, but she still opened her mouth. She feared what William might do to her if she didn't obey. William's expression softened as he watched Emily eat mouthful by mouthful. "I don't love you, so don't challenge my boundaries. But don't worry..." He said, "As long as you're alive, I'll treat you well." Because Sophia's heart was inside Emily's body. Emily sobbed. She wished she hadn't undergone the heart transplant and had just died instead. Being tied to William for the rest of her life made her feel desperate. He didn't love her; he treated her as a substitute. "Be good," William stroked her face, his voice tender, "Sophia, be good." Emily bit down hard on her lips, drawing blood. William pressed his finger against her lips and leaned in close, "You're bleeding. Does it hurt? You hate pain the most." Emily trembled all over, her heart filled with immense pain. William went to get the first-aid kit and cleaned her wound little by little. Emily kept her eyes closed, refusing to look at him. "If you don't like the cook's food, I can replace her," William pinched her waist, "You've lost weight recently. I don't like you being too thin." She was too thin, reminding William of Sophia's last days, when she was emaciated. That helplessness was something William never wanted to experience again or remember. Emily slowly opened her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the quilt. Thin? After coming to the Browns, she had gained thirty pounds. If she refused to eat, William's eyes would turn fearsome. "I'll make sure you live a good life. I won't be broke forever," William smiled and pinched her cheek. "Can I visit my mom?" She couldn't stand being in the Brown house for another minute; it felt suffocating. William nodded, "I'll take you." William untied her and brought her clothes. After changing, William took her downstairs. The car drove for two and a half hours to the outskirts of the city. Emily got out of the car. The neighbors gave Emily strange looks. Emily had once been the model child, excelling in school and having a good personality. Who would have known she would end up... Especially after spending time in prison. People had gossiped that Emily might not find a husband after her release, but no one expected someone to marry her. The man was well-dressed and rumored to have come from a wealthy family that had fallen on hard times. Emily entered the house where her mother was sewing. Her eyesight was poor, and she struggled to thread the needle. Emily took the needle and thread, threaded it, and handed it to her mother. Seeing her, Emily's mother felt happy. "Have you eaten? There's food in the fridge..." "I don't want to hear the word 'food'." Emily covered her ears, her expression suddenly changing. Emily's mother was startled and didn't dare speak for a good while. Emily snapped back to reality, feeling a twinge of guilt. Her mother had been conditioned to fear being yelled at, and she shouldn't have... "Mom, I'm sorry." "Where's your husband?" Emily's mother glanced outside. Emily gritted her teeth, "He's out there." "Don't let him in. I don't want to see him." William: "Who don't you want to see?" Emily shivered and tightened her lips. "Let's go home," William glanced at the time. Emily stared at him, and William pulled a smile, "Don't want to go back?" William wasn't unreasonable, but Emily's eyes couldn't hide anything. Clearly, something was brewing in her mind. Before Emily could speak, her mother nudged her, "Go back, hurry up." "Mom!" Emily looked at her mother with frustration. If she hadn't persuaded her to divorce her stepfather when she did, would this have happened? She remembered how her stepfather treated her poorly when she was young, either beating or scolding her, but her mother refused to divorce him. She claimed he wasn't like that before; it was all the alcohol's fault. If she had been sober and divorced Matthew then, she wouldn't have been beaten until she was sick. It wasn't until Matthew was imprisoned that her mother finally relaxed. As a child, she envied other kids who had new clothes, backpacks, and shoes, their textbooks wrapped in pretty covers, sharing snacks with friends after class. What about her? Others called her poor and unfashionable. All she could do was study hard, desperately hard. Emily had only asked her family for money once, and after getting a severe beating, she learned her lesson. She had never hated her family this much. Emily's mother whispered softly, "Be good and go back." She murmured, lowering her head to pick up a needle and thread to mend clothes. William took Emily's hand and led her out. "Let me go," Emily shook off his hand, drawing the attention of those nearby. William stuffed his hand in his pocket and looked down at her condescendingly. "Are you getting in the car by yourself, or should I put you in?" William's thin lips tightened. Emily's face paled. She bit her lip, took a step back, and knelt before William, "I beg you, let me go, okay? I don't want Sophia's heart anymore. I'll dig it out for you, okay?" William glanced back, "Matthew is about to be released." Emily's mother stood at the doorway, and the needle and thread fell from her hands upon hearing William's words. He crouched down and pinched Emily's chin. "If you behave, I can take your mother out and let her divorce Matthew. Don't talk about digging out hearts again. Sophia saved you. Even if you dig out your heart, she won't come back to life, do you understand? I don't want to hear you say such things again, Emily." William's voice was stern. Emily choked back tears and turned her head, seeing the hope in her mother's eyes. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and after a moment, stood up and said, "Okay, I'll go home with you." Sophia was once her best friend and treated her well. Emily regretted coveting John. If she hadn't been so greedy, she wouldn't be like this today. Emily was dazed, somewhat longing for something. What she cared about most in her life was her mother. Matthew was in jail, and they never visited him. Based on his temper, he would definitely fly into a rage upon returning, and her mother would suffer. She must get her mother to divorce him. Although William wasn't as wealthy as he once was, he was the only person she could rely on now. "You have to keep your word," Emily eagerly grabbed William's arm. William pulled his arm away and said, "I never break my promises." After hearing this, Emily's mother sighed in relief, turned back into the house, sat on the bed, and stared blankly at the needle and thread before covering her face with her hands. ... It was raining. In the cemetery. A man held a black umbrella and walked up the steps, stopping in front of a tombstone after a few steps. The woman in the photograph smiled brightly. The man crouched down, and his distinct knuckles touched her face. Raindrops tapped against the umbrella, wetting his leather shoes. "Sophia," John whispered with a bitter smile, "I'm finding it... hard to keep going." Three months later, the world was stunned. John, the president of the Jones family, had died unexpectedly.