Chapter 73

The recording continued to play.

For over an hour, Stella Valentine's gentle voice filled the hospital room.

Her tone was as soft as a spring breeze, carrying the tender warmth only a mother could possess, pouring all her love into those recordings.

She never told her child she was about to leave this world.

She only said, "Mommy is going to a very beautiful place."

Adrian Roland's knuckles turned white as he pressed them against his chest.

The pain there felt like someone had carved out a piece of his flesh.

"Who is Ethan?" Joy Fairsprene demanded, her eyes red.

Adrian's throat moved as he swallowed hard.

He had never met that child.

But he knew his name was Felix Roland.

Sun, moon, and stars—finally complete.

It was the name they had once agreed upon.

"My son," he rasped, his voice barely recognizable. "Five years old. He's been in the hospital since birth..."

Joy's tears hit the floor.

"Adrian Roland, you're a monster!"

He didn't argue.

Yes, he was a monster.

He hadn't even known his own son existed. He hadn't noticed the woman he loved most was dying.

He had even robbed her of the right to see their daughter.

"Stella gave you two children!" Joy screamed hysterically. "Last time, she swallowed her pride and begged you to save your son, and you forced her to divorce you! This time, right after giving birth, you took her daughter away! Why don't you just die?!"

Adrian stood motionless.

If enduring her curses could bring Stella back to health, he would let her scream at him for the rest of his life.

The emergency room doors suddenly swung open.

"Doctor!" Adrian lunged forward, grabbing the physician's arm. "How is my wife?"

The doctor removed his mask and shook his head.

"Late-stage lung cancer. She could go at any moment..." He paused. "Try to fulfill her last wishes."

"How long does she have?"

"It's uncertain." The doctor sighed. "Could be tomorrow. Could be six months."

Adrian staggered back two steps.

Joy snatched the payment slip and rushed to the nurse's station.

When she returned, Stella had already been moved to the ICU.

Through the glass, Adrian could see her frail body, almost disappearing beneath the sheets.

Dried blood still stained her wrists.

Only the numbers on the monitor proved she was still alive.

"If she stabilizes in three days, she can be moved to a regular room," the doctor said. "But we need to decide on chemotherapy soon."

Joy suddenly seized Adrian's collar.

"Divorce her," she sobbed. "Let her spend her last days in peace."

"I'm her husband."

"Do you deserve to be?" Joy's voice trembled. "In twenty-six years, what have you ever given her?"

Adrian's eyes burned a terrifying red.

"I'll make it up to her," he said, each word deliberate. "With my life."

"She doesn't need that!" Joy shrieked. "She just wants to live her final days in peace!"

Adrian stared at Stella through the ICU window.

"When she wakes up," he murmured, "if she asks for a divorce herself, I'll let her go."

He knew she would say it to his face.

Because his Stella had always been a woman who saw things through to the end.