Time was too tight; Lucas didn’t have a chance to fully grasp what had just happened before he rushed back on stage. A few minutes later, the venue erupted once more with the audience’s enthusiasm at Lucas's reappearance. "Thank you..." The young makeup artist handed Emily a cup of water. "Would you like some water?" The girl’s face was full of admiration and gratitude. Emily smiled gently. "No, I’m good. You don’t need to thank me. Keep working hard." The young girl seemed greatly encouraged, nodding enthusiastically. "I will!" Emily turned and left the backstage area, moving through the staff-only exit to leave the concert venue. Vincent didn’t stop her. He just followed behind her silently. "Mr. Norman, I’m off the clock," she said. "This is my personal time now, and I want to go home and rest. I’m not interested in staying for the concert." Vincent nodded. "That’s fine. If you don’t want to stay, we won’t." "Sorry for wasting your two VIP tickets then. I’m going now." He grabbed her wrist. Emily tried to pull away. "What else do you want to say?" "I have a request." "No." "But I haven’t even said what it is." "It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, if it’s unrelated to work, I won’t agree. If you think my work attitude is poor, you can have Cathy fire me and send me back to London. I’d be more than happy." Vincent shook his head. "Now that you’re back by my side, I won’t let you leave again." "I’m not here for you; I’m here as a contractor.""Emily," Vincent’s voice softened, almost pleading, "I know you hate me because of our child. I admit I failed—I didn’t protect you, and Logan found an opportunity. But losing our child hurt me too. For these three years, I’ve been suffering, just like you. I’ve been looking for you, hoping we could start over, maybe even have another child—" "Stop!" Emily’s voice was sharp, cutting him off. "You're the wealthiest man in New York now. Countless young women would line up to have your baby. I'm thirty now—I can’t afford to play your games anymore. I just want a peaceful life." "Emily..." "Don’t touch me." "No, if I let go, you’ll run." In her frustration, Emily pushed him hard. "I said don’t touch me!" Thud. Vincent’s back hit the car door with a heavy sound. He stiffened, not moving for a long moment, his face twisted in pain, growing pale. Emily wanted to leave right away, but Dylan’s words about Vincent's condition flashed through her mind. His injuries had been severe... Her feet seemed glued to the ground. "Are you okay?" she finally asked. The color had drained from Vincent's lips, his face ashen, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. He did not look okay. But he gritted his teeth, waved her off, and said, "I’m fine." His hands gripped the car door as he tried to stand, but he almost collapsed again. Emily hurried over to steady him. "What’s really going on with your health?" "I’m fine." "But you’re clearly—" "I said I'm fine!" His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw clenched tightly. "Emily, am I useless now? I can't even hold myself up... how am I supposed to have the strength to keep you from leaving?" From what Dylan had told her, Emily had gathered that Vincent's condition was dire. But she hadn’t realized it was this bad. She hadn’t even used her full strength, yet he was suffering like this. "Emily..." "Get in the car. I'll take you to the hospital." "No hospital," Vincent shook his head. "I want to go home." Emily hesitated. His pain was worsening, sweat beading heavily on his forehead. Finally, she relented. No matter what, she couldn't just abandon him like this. "Get in," she said. "I’ll drive." Carefully, she helped him into the back seat, then moved to the driver's side and got in. She started the car, merging slowly into traffic. "Emily, your driving has gotten a lot better," Vincent commented. Emily turned on the blinker, then merged onto the main road. "I can’t rely on others forever. Where do you live now?" "At the Norman estate." Emily's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Room 2307 was burned; I had nowhere else to go. I had to go home." She took a deep breath, her mind racing. She wasn’t ready to go back to the Norman house. "Emily, Grandma’s health is getting worse. The doctors told me to be prepared for the worst." Emily’s heart sank. "She’s getting confused now. Sometimes she doesn’t even recognize my father. But she’s always thinking about you, and our child." "......" "The favor I wanted to ask... was for you to come see her. If you don’t, I’m afraid you might never get the chance." "Don’t say anymore."Saying goodbye to the past was always painful. Saying goodbye to loved ones even more so. Meggie had been nothing but kind to her. Emily couldn’t refuse this request. "You still remember the way," Vincent said, leaning back in the rear seat. "She’ll be so happy to see you." Emily glanced at him through the rear-view mirror. Though he still looked pale, some color had returned to his face. "Is Grandma still reading the Bible every day?" "Yes, she still goes to the attic every day. She says it’s to pray for you and the child." "That attic is cold," Emily noted. "Being there too long isn’t good for her heart." "I know, but no one can convince her otherwise," Vincent said. "Maybe you can try when you see her. She always listens to you." The car finally pulled up to the entrance of the Norman estate. It looked the same as it had three years ago, even the roses around the gate seemed unchanged, as though time had stood still. Emily got out, walking to help Vincent from the back seat. But Vincent refused her help. "I’m a man. I can’t show weakness in front of my woman." From a distance, a joyful voice called out, "Is that Mr. Norman returning?" Vincent smiled. "Yes, Bella. Is Grandma still in the chapel?" "Yes, she is!" Bella noticed Emily standing beside him. "And this lady is...?" Vincent gently pulled Emily into his arms. "This is Emily. I brought her back to see Grandma."