When There Is Nothing Left But Love - Season 3 Episode 32

I shook my head. “I won’t!”

He smiled but remained silent.

For the first time, I realized that John was actually quite talkative, seeing as he’d been babbling away all afternoon. Since the matter with the AI project was settled, I wasn’t in a hurry to leave either.

So, I propped my chin on my palm and listened intently to him. “Letty, all these years, I’ve been thinking about where I belong in the world, but you were always the one who came to my mind. So I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. In the end, I gave him a terse reply, “Just take things one step at a time.”

I couldn’t give him false promises about his future when my own life had already hit a dead end. If it weren’t for the hatred fueling me, I would never have lived until today. Hence, I never promised anyone anything. I was selfish like that, unwilling to spare him even a sliver of hope.

Noticing the exhaustion lining my features, he asked, “Are you tired? Do you want me to take you home now?”

I nodded and left the restaurant with him.

Along the way, I started to feel drowsy. He stopped talking and played some mellow music for me to ease into slumber.

Leaning against my seat, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. However, it proved impossible. More often than not, I lay wide awake in bed, so falling asleep in a car was out of the question.

Even though I was sleepy, I just couldn’t drift off. When the car stopped, I instinctively opened my eyes, only to see John getting out with a dark look on his face.

Ashton’s towering figure was planted firmly in front of the car. He looked slightly haggard and seemed to have waited at the entrance of the residential area for a long time.

John had a lot of bottled-up anger in him, so after getting out of the car, he raised his fist wordlessly and threw a punch at Ashton. Despite that, Ashton didn’t fight back, allowing John to hit him however he liked.

I didn’t intend to stop the fight either. I just remained in the car, my heart as hard as a stone and my face completely devoid of emotion.

After some time, John slumped onto the ground beside Ashton, probably from exhaustion. Even so, his anger hadn’t yet diminished as he roared furiously, “I’ve never met a b*stard worse than you, Ashton Fuller!”

Ashton remained silent and slowly got to his feet. Although he had been beaten up quite badly, there was still an air of nobility surrounding him.

As he stood in front of the car, he stared at me with dark eyes. When our eyes locked, I felt no love, only the pressure of bitter memories threatening to overwhelm me.

We stared each other down for a long while before I relented and got out of the car.

I walked toward him and said in a clipped tone, “Please step aside. We need to drive the car in!” He was blocking the entrance, and I couldn’t very well make the car fly over him.

He grabbed my hand with the strength of his grip gradually increasing, causing pain to shoot through my hand. After staring at me for a long time, hurt flashed across his eyes as he forced out the words, “Scarlett, this isn’t your home.”

I was trembling slightly, but not because of him, no. It was probably due to the late autumn’s cold weather.

I felt the urge to laugh, but my voice was caught in my throat. My eyes stung with imminent tears, and I flung his hand away with all my might, keeping my emotions on a tight leash before speaking, “Sure. You can continue standing in the way if you wanna die!”

With that, I got into the car. John left the keys behind, so I started the engine and looked at the man standing motionless in front of the car. “Get out of the way!” I shouted.

His bottomless eyes gleamed slightly when he said, “If my death will make you feel better, so be it.”

The autumn wind in K City was freezing, billowing so strong that the leaves on the roadside were blown everywhere, like orphans left to fend for themselves.

“It’s still not too late to get out of the way!” I paused, narrowing my eyes a fraction before continuing, “Because I will run you down.”

“Mm. Do it!” His voice was calm, but John started to panic.

He looked at me and warned in a grave tone, “Letty, don’t be rash!”

Am I being rash? No, I know what I’m doing. Squinting my eyes, I lifted my foot and floored the accelerator.

Love was indeed terrifying and stupid at the same time. Stupid because right before the car rammed into Ashton, I jerked the steering wheel to the side and crashed into the flowerbed on the roadside.

This suicidal act caused my head to buzz. There was a sharp pain in my chest before something warm surged in my throat.

I spat a mouthful of blood and slumped weakly onto the steering wheel, gradually losing consciousness.

Everything happened so quickly, and my hazy mind could vaguely hear two anxious shouts.

“Scarlett!”

“Letty!”

Ashton’s and John’s voices sounded in unison.

I was in the hospital when I came to.

My whole body was numb with pain. Staring at the ceiling, I began to hate myself because I had failed to kill the person I despised the most. How useless.

Turning to look at the person standing beside my bed, I said apologetically, “Sorry. I seemed to have lost control of my emotions again and got myself into trouble.”

This wasn’t the first time Marcus had seen me try to kill myself. He was terrified at first, but now that I was brought back from the brink of death, he could finally relax.

He raised his hand to push away the stray strands of hair on my forehead and uttered in a low voice, “John’s Bentley is scrapped. You’re lucky to be alive!”

I smiled feebly, uncertain whether he was relieved or freaked out. There was a needle stuck into the back of my hand which was slightly swollen, probably because I had been on a drip for quite some time already.

“Was I out for a long time?”

He nodded. “Two days and one night. Your forehead and chest sustained injuries.”

I stared at the ceiling again and said nonchalantly, “This time didn’t hurt as bad.”