Chapter 289

Adrian tightened his arms, pulling Stella completely into his embrace.

His lips brushed against her damp cheek as he whispered in a trembling voice, "Stella..."

An invisible hand seemed to clutch his heart. The bitterness rising in his throat choked him silent. He felt like a vessel overflowing with anguish, the pain swirling inside him with no escape.

All he could do was repeat her name, listening to her heart-wrenching sobs.

No one understood the depth of losing a child better than he did. This soul-crushing torment—he knew it well.

His only choice was to drown in this sorrow with her.

That child wasn't even his. So why did his chest feel bludgeoned by a blunt weapon?

The agony made him forget the wound on his arm. Forget...he was merely a substitute.

The woman in his arms had cried herself limp, as though she might dissolve into tears.

Adrian lifted her onto his lap, gently stroking her trembling back. "Let it out. It'll help."

"Mr. Alistair..." Her voice was raw and broken.

"I'm here."

"Celeste..."

He held her tighter, his voice soft as water. "I understand why you fought so hard to save her. From now on, she's our daughter. I'll spare no effort."

Boom—

Thunder cracked outside.

The rain seemed endless, like her tears.

Adrian held her until exhaustion claimed her, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Carefully, he laid her on the bed and tucked her in.

Then he settled behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, breathing in the jasmine scent of her hair.

In his dream, he returned to the summit of Mount Rainier.

That night, the stars had glittered like diamonds, flickering in and out of view.

At sunrise, a blood-red sun leaped from the horizon, like a molten egg yolk.

An ancient banyan tree stood at the peak, its aerial roots hanging like curtains.

Beneath it sat the familiar black MV Agusta Brutale.

......

"Doctor, I slept last night without medication."

The female psychiatrist rubbed her bleary eyes. "Adrian, it's five in the morning."

"I know. But I fell asleep naturally."

She forced herself alert. "How do you feel?"

"Calm," he said, gazing out the window. "Like a windless sea."

"That's progress. Try to identify what helped. Maybe you can wean off the pills—"

"She came back," Adrian interrupted urgently.

"Who?"

"My little star."

The doctor looked puzzled. "An astronomy exhibit?"

"The love of my life."

"She returned to you?"

"Yes...and no." His smile turned bitter. "She loves someone else. Last night, she mistook me for him."

"You're willing to be a stand-in?"

"Willing." His eyes gleamed. "However she comes back to me, I'll take it."

The psychiatrist sighed. "Psychologically, any method that aids your recovery is worth trying. If role-playing brings you peace, so be it."

"But I can only be him at night." He exhaled, relieved. "Still, it's better than nothing."

"What if the real one reappears—"

"He won't." Adrian shook his head. "He's gone."

"...I see."

"Yet I'm still hurting."

"Why?"

"Doctor, have you been to Mount Rainier's summit?"

She considered. "There's a golf course midway. But the peak is treacherous with no attractions. Few go there."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Go see the summit for me."

She frowned. "Why not go yourself?"

"I can't."

"Afraid of the dangerous climb?"

"No." His voice tightened. "I'm afraid being near that child will destroy me."

"What child? The summit's no place for children."

Adrian ignored her. "There's a banyan tree. A sunrise... Let me show you."

He took her laptop, fingers flying across the trackpad. Stella used to sketch designs by hand while he digitized them.

Ten minutes later, a bird's-eye view of the summit filled the screen—barren except for gravel and an ancient banyan, with a rising sun where sea met sky.

"That's it." He turned the screen toward her. "Please verify if it's real."

He checked his watch. "The chauffeur will arrive soon. Leave now, and you'll catch the sunrise."

The doctor studied the image, then recalled, "Last time, you mentioned a crabapple tree—"

"Wasn't there."

"This is likely another dream. I'll go, but temper your expectations."

"I understand." He closed his eyes briefly.

The psychiatrist hastily packed her bag. "Wait for my update."