Chapter 219
William was a practical man who had faced countless challenges throughout his long life. Having built a financial empire fenim gergich, në king the dat accurate information. This was why, before Thomas submitted his resignation letter, William had arranged a private meeting with him.
The question was simple and direct: How much longer do I have to live?
Thomas looked at the elderly man with professional compassion. No sugar–coating, no false hope–just the truth that William deserved.
With a suitable heart transplant, followed by successful recovery without rejection complications, your could live another three years, Thomas explained calmly. Without a transplant, I’d estimate three months at most.”
William nodded slowly, absorbing the information without visible distress. Where others might have raged or fallen into despair, he found a strange some of peace.
Understanding the limits of his remaining life allowed him to focus on what truly mattered. For him, what mattered most now was securing Sophia and Billy’s future.
Watching Sophia chat comfortably with Alexander, William felt a flicker of hope. This young man from Aspen was intelligent, successful, and genuinely seemed interested in Sophia.
Most importantly, he treated her with respect–something his own grandson had failed to do for six long years.
The Reynolds family had initially expressed concerns about Sophia’s previous marriage and child, but Alexander’s willingness to visit personally spoke volumes about his family’s attitude. William clearly understood the implications.
“Sophia, William said, his voice stronger than it had been in days, “why don’t you show Mr. Reynolds around the city? I’m sure he’d appreciate having a local guide.
I glanced at William with surprise. His suggestion wasn’t subtle, but I couldn’t deny that Alexander’s company was refreshing. After years of emotional torment from Henry, simple conversation with a stranger was surprisingly pleasant.
“I’d be delighted,” Alexander said, his eyes crinkling warmly with sincerity. “Of course, if it’s not too much trouble for Sophia.”
Since our meeting in Aspen, Alexander had been carefully observing me. Unlike most men who dealt with the Harding family, he saw beyond my status as Henry’s wife. He noticed my resilience, how I maintained my dignity despite everything I’d endured.
I wasn’t broken, nor had I become self–pitying–qualities that clearly fascinated him.
If my divorce from Henry had been finalized, Alexander would have expressed his interest more directly. But he respected boundaries, which made him even more attractive.
‘I’ll be staying in Manhattan for a while,” he explained, turning to face me. “I’m looking into some investment opportunities, possibly establishing a manufacturing facility here.”
My eyes immediately brightened at this news. “You’re planning to build a factory in Manhattan?” I asked. “That’s wonderful! I fully support anything that contributes to our city’s development.”
The enthusiasm in my voice was genuine. I loved this city–its energy, its resilience, its constant evolution. Despite everything that had happened to me here, Manhattan was still home.
“If there’s any way I can help, just say the word,” I offered. “I’ll be available whenever you need me.”
Alexander smiled, clearly pleased with my response. “In that case, I won’t hesitate to accept your offer. He glanced at his watch before continuing, “I arrived just a few hours ago and haven’t had a chance to eat. Would you mind showing me somewhere with authentic local cuisine? I’m starving.”
William chimed in: “Yes, are we going to let our guest starve in Manhattan?” With that, he handed me a bank card.
The balance on the card was enough to buy an entire Michelin–starred restaurant–I certainly didn’t need that much money.
I turned to William. ‘Grandpa, take back your card. I’ll take Mr. Reynolds for some local specialties. You should rest now.”
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Chapter 219
William reluctantly holded, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction as he watched ne prepare to leave.
Give me five minutes to change, I told Alexander, gesturing to my nurse’s uniform.
Five minutes later, we were walking side by side down the hospital corridor. 4 had changed into dark jeans, a cream–colored sweater, and a heapiery an coat–casual but put together.
Alexander had also switched his formal attire for something more comfortable, though still undeniably expensive,
As we stepped outside, the winter air was crisp and cold. Along the pathway, winter plum blossoms were in full bloom, filling the air with a subtle, sweet. fragrance. The delicate yellow flowers created a striking contrast against the gray sky.
Alexander stole glances at me as we walked, as if something about me attracted him.
Perhaps he appreciated that I wasn’t a hothouse flower sheltered from reality.
I was authentic, genuine, and my scars had healed to become my source of strength.
Alexander couldn’t help wondering how Henry could mistreat someone like Sophia.
What kind of man would have such a woman in his life yet choose to cause her pain?
At that moment, Henry was witnessing Sophia and Alexander leaving the hospital.
He had arrived a step too late, only catching a glimpse of their backs as they walked away together.
Henry sat in his car, watching the two from a distance. He noticed how comfortable they appeared in each other’s company, how relaxed Sophia’s posture was–so different from the tension she usually displayed around him.
Sophia and Alexander strolled leisurely along the street, chatting about inconséquential things–the unusually cold weather, the holiday decorations appearing in shop windows, the latest exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum.
Henry followed in his car, maintaining a careful distance. Despite Alexander keeping a respectful space between himself and Sophia, Henry couldn’t suppress the twisted jealousy in his gut.
This man was clearly here to pursue Sophia–to steal her away from him!
But did Henry even have the right to feel possessive anymore?
After learning about Isabella’s attempt to murder Sophia–an attempt he had been completely unaware of when it happened–waves of shame washed over
him.
Knowing he had defended the woman who had tried to kill his wife and son, he had no face to confront Sophia..
So instead of directly disturbing the pair, Henry lurked in his luxury car like a thief, following at a distance, observing every smile and gesture exchanged between Alexander and Sophia.
Jealousy and remorse battled within him, leaving him without the courage to step out of his car or the strength to drive away.
He could only watch as another man showed Sophia the respect and attention that he had failed to give his wife for six long years.
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