Chapter 796: Chapter 796: I Love You, Do You Know?
"Yara..."
He called out repeatedly, the echoes of his own voice resonating in the empty room.
He twisted his head searching, those deep narrow eyes gradually lost their focus, becoming hollow and pale.
He seemed like a lost child, searching the world over.
Searching for what?
Searching for his heart.
His heart was lost.
He opened the door, ran outside, the man dressed in black silk pajamas, the chilly autumn wind made his pajamas flap noisily.
The night’s wind rises, and with it comes a sense of loss.
His steps were hurried and chaotic, no longer composed as before, he ran all the way, leaving a trail of blood like blooming poppies, deadly and hauntingly beautiful.
Yara!
He must find his Yara.
At this moment, a familiar sweet voice sounded by his ear, "Jude."
Jude Crawford halted, quickly turned around, a slender figure emerged from the darkness, Isabelle Willow.
Feeling thirsty at night, Isabelle Willow had simply gotten up to pour some water, and soon she heard Jude Crawford’s voice.
She came over, and indeed saw him, along with...his trail of blood.
"Jude, what happened to you?" Isabelle Willow swiftly approached him.
Jude Crawford reached out, pulling her into his arms, burying his handsome face in her hair, "Yara, so you were here, I’ve been looking for you for so long."
He lowered his head, kissing her forehead, murmuring, "Yara, I missed you."
He said, Yara, I missed you.
Truly, truly missed you.
Twenty years have passed, and this belated "I missed you."
He held her tightly, tighter and tighter.
"Jude, what’s wrong with you, are you feeling unwell, your foot is hurt, let me take a look..."
The next second, Isabelle Willow’s words ceased abruptly, for she felt her cheeks damp, tears falling onto her face.
He...
Isabelle Willow’s pupils contracted.
Jude Crawford, though holding her tightly, still felt empty inside, lacking any sense of security.
A layer of mist gathered in his eyes, the mist thickened, and finally, drop after drop of tears fell down.
He began to cry, his broad shoulders trembling, crying incessantly.
He held her, crying painfully.
The path of love in this life has been rocky, his face still young, but his heart has aged, a short few decades traversed like crossing vast seas.
Climbing mountains and crossing ridges, bearing traces of the years.
There’s no sweet scene in the memory, this love-hate entanglement makes recalling it painful.
Never obtained, always waiting.
Never loved, yet still losing.
The softest part of his persistent heart in this life was given to her.
She was like poison, making him gravely ill.
One drop, two drops, three drops of tears... falling on Isabelle Willow’s face, wetting her small face.
Jude Crawford hurriedly wiped them for her, in the end wetting his own hands, smudging her face.
Would his Yara be angry?
Jude Crawford forced a smile, one that was seemingly ingratiating.
He smiled ingratiatingly, cried in distress, at this moment, this business titan on life’s last train was crying and laughing like a fool.
Isabelle Willow felt a strong panic, a deep panic, she was scared, she had never seen Jude Crawford like this.
She never knew that Jude Crawford, this man, could cry.
A bad premonition swirled in her heart, causing it to plummet rapidly, "Jude, what’s wrong with you, I’m right here, I won’t leave again."
Jude Crawford gradually calmed down, but his face was very pale, his eyes filled with deep sorrow and farewell, "Yara, I’m fine, don’t be afraid."
"Then let’s hurry back to the room, you’re hurt."
Isabelle Willow held his large hand, leading him back to the room.
...
In the room, Isabelle Willow took out a medical box to treat his wounds, those fragments of glass deeply embedded in the flesh of his soles, she used sterilized tweezers to pull out the pieces one by one.
Her heart ached painfully, she didn’t know he was hurt so badly, stepping on so many shards of glass.
"Jude, I’ll call the doctor to come to help you handle it, so the wound doesn’t get infected and inflamed." Isabelle Willow stood up.
Jude Crawford grasped her small hand, gently shaking his head, "Yara, I’m a bit tired, let’s call the doctor tomorrow, I want to hold you and sleep for a while."
Isabelle Willow turned back to look at him, at this moment he was quietly sitting on the bed, fatigue heavy in his eyebrows.
Soon, she saw his temples, there... seemed to be strands of white hair.
Isabelle Willow stiffened, then slowly raised her hand to touch his hair.
One strand, two strands, three strands...
Those white hairs were too many to count, with the storm of the night, he suddenly aged.
Isabelle Willow felt her heart being gripped tightly by a large hand, the pain making it hard to breathe.
"What’s wrong?" he asked.
Isabelle Willow quickly shook her head, "Nothing, Jude, let’s sleep."
She didn’t want to tell him, plan to buy hair dye tomorrow and dye his white hair black.
At this moment, Isabelle Willow didn’t know, tomorrow after tomorrow, lost so many years between them, time had been exhausted in twenty years of waiting, she and he would stop at tonight, with no more tomorrow.
The two lay on the bed, Jude Crawford stretched out his strong arm, holding her in his embrace, Isabelle Willow rested on his arm, listening to the strong beating of his heart, feeling somewhat comforted.
"Jude, what happened to you today?" she asked softly while lying in his arms.
Jude Crawford closed his eyes, "Nothing, just had a nightmare, dreaming you left me again."
Isabelle Willow felt a sharp pain in her heart, she reached out and hugged his waist, her eyes red.
"Yara, I love you, do you know that?"
Isabelle Willow sniffed her reddened nose, nodding forcefully, "Yes, I know."
"But, I love you, and I’ve loved enough in this life, if there’s an afterlife, I don’t wish to meet you again." His voice was deep like an ancient bell, telling her slowly.
He never believed in past lives, but if there truly is an afterlife, he hopes not to meet her again.
Loved enough, hurt enough, waited enough, if there’s another lifetime, he wouldn’t want time to start over, hoping to meet someone to enjoy being loved, to fill the regret of unrequited love in this life, he wishes for that person to treat him gently.
Isabelle Willow clutched at his clothes, "Jude, I..."
Jude Crawford closed his eyes, interrupting her words, "Zane..."
Isabelle Willow’s heart skipped a beat; it was the first time he mentioned Zane Crawford to her.
Jude Crawford didn’t open his eyes, just drew a gentle curve, "Although I have never admitted it over the years, because he was by my side, I felt the days weren’t so hard to endure, so, I truthfully raised Zane as a son, Yara, I... really like him."