Chapter 782

Lena felt weighed down after hearing about Kefra’s uncle and aunt. It wasn’t guilt; it was the unsettling idea of two people who couldn’t share life but chose to share death that stuck with her. People had been romanticizing dying for love since Romeo and Juliet, but Lena didn’t buy it. To her, real love wasn’t about leaving the world together; it was about staying in it, growing old side by side.

When she’d never been in love, it seemed so simple: love was enough. But now she knew better. Finding a love that could survive life’s curveballs was hard. Finding one that lasted into old age? Almost impossible.

By the time Nate got home, it was late. Lena sat on the balcony, lost in her thoughts.

“Why are you still up? I told you not to wait,” Nate said, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Are you exhausted?” she asked.

He hummed in reply, too tired to say much. Lena could feel the weight of his exhaustion, like he might fall asleep right there. She reached up, touching his face gently, her chest tightening. “You can’t keep doing this, Nate. Have you ever thought about easing up?”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Not yet. Maybe in a few more years.”

Lena gave him a faint smile—one that felt more bitter than sweet. “You’re so ambitious. No wonder you’re so successful,” she teased lightly, though her tone had a hint of something else.

Nate didn’t respond, just buried his face in her neck, too drained to even speak. She pressed her lips together, holding back the words she wanted to say. What was the point when he was like this? Instead, she sighed. “You’re exhausted. Just go to sleep.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, but he didn’t move. Lena knew this level of exhaustion too well—the kind that made even breathing feel like work. She got it. She understood Nate, probably better than anyone.

But understanding didn’t make it easier to accept how distant he’d been or how often he wasn’t there when she needed him most. Leaning her head against his, she whispered, “Come on, let’s get to bed.”

He exhaled deeply, summoning just enough strength to scoop her into his arms. His steps were slow, unsteady, as he carried her to the bedroom. She watched him silently, her heart heavy. The ache she felt for him was so deep, it almost swallowed her words.

“I already washed up at the hospital. Can I skip a shower tonight?” His voice was barely audible, and he looked like he might fall over any second.

Looking at him, Lena couldn’t bring herself to push. “Okay.”

Nate managed a faint smile. “You’re the best, Lena.” He climbed into bed, pulling her close. His eyes shut almost instantly, but Lena stayed awake, watching the handsome features of his face as he drifted off. “Your flight’s in the afternoon, right?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’ll spend the morning with you.”

It was rare for him to even acknowledge how little time they’d had together. Lena stayed quiet, though. Nate fell asleep almost instantly, but she lay awake, her gaze fixed on him.

When he finally stirred the next morning, it was past ten—and only because his phone buzzed insistently. “…We’re leaving this afternoon,” he said into the phone. “Do you really think it’s smart to head out again?…It’s always about Prof. Hemington…No, I’m not going.” He hung up, frustration clear as he raked a hand through his hair.

Lena leaned against the doorframe, having overheard the whole exchange. The sinking feeling in her chest deepened—those few precious hours they had left were slipping through her fingers.

And she was right. Nate hadn’t even finished his breakfast when his phone rang again—this time, it was Professor Hemington himself.

Lena didn’t wait to hear more. She turned and walked back to the bedroom. When Nate finally came in, she didn’t even glance his way.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said flatly.