Chapter 308

Cynthia and Filip were numb; each critical condition notice brought fresh waves of despair. Lilian lay in a coma, her body a network of tubes, day after day. The severity of her injuries, compounded by the trauma of the cesarean section, had taken a significant toll. Her organs were failing, especially her heart; a ventilator barely sustained her life. Daily, Cynthia, clad in sterile clothing, spent time in the ICU, talking to Lilian as if engaged in a one-sided conversation.

Each visit revealed Lilian, pale and still, and Cynthia’s heart ached. Her thoughts drifted constantly to their high school days. Lilian had seemed fragile then, but Cynthia had recognized early on that this fragility was a facade, perhaps even a weapon. Beneath the surface, she possessed the resilience of a weed, fierce and unyielding.

Cynthia had noted Lilian's subtle manipulations, such as creating tension between her and Naomi. However, understanding Lilian's difficult upbringing, Cynthia remained compassionate. Everyone possesses a darker side, fueled by greed, jealousy, and ulterior motives. For Cynthia, the bottom line was Lilian's genuine care and affection for her.

This belief remained unshaken until the incident with Filip was revealed. Cynthia felt her worldview shatter. As an award-winning actress, capable of portraying genuine emotion, she was nonetheless profoundly impacted when Lilian had recklessly shielded her from a bullet. She couldn't comprehend Lilian's sacrifice: "What kind of emotion could compel someone to exchange their life for another's?" A deep shock resonated within her.

Lilian remained unresponsive. Cynthia, who had spent a week at the hospital, received silent support from Jonathan, who stayed by her side. She only left occasionally to shower and sleep at Greenfield Villa. Mostly silent, her quietude was calm. She discussed Lilian's condition and treatment options with the head doctor, consulted experts, and even traveled to Betrico to meet a heart specialist.

Cynthia's sudden flurry of activity surprised Jonathan, who could have handled everything for her but chose not to, believing it best for her to stay occupied. His primary concern was her safety. He knew she was deeply hurt; Lilian and Cynthia had been each other's closest friends in youth, deeply influencing one another's lives.

Cynthia's feelings for Lilian were complex: a mixture of love and hate, resentment, reluctance, and regret. These deeply ingrained emotions, combined with confusion, left her struggling. Jonathan suspected Lilian had loved Cynthia—a twisted, insane, pathological love. Lilian's act of shielding Cynthia solidified this belief, revealing a love that rivaled any other. It was simply obsessive.

He had despised Lilian, yet now, unexpectedly, felt a hint of gratitude. If not for her twisted love, Cynthia would be the one in intensive care. He knew his own thoughts were selfish, but he wasn't a saint. In the same situation, he would have taken the bullet for Cynthia without hesitation.

Around dawn, Cynthia returned from Betrico. Finding Jonathan awake, she asked, "Did I wake you?"

Jonathan sat up, pulling off the blanket. He embraced her gently. "No, you didn't."

Feeling his warmth, Cynthia felt comforted. Seeing her neatly dressed, he asked, "Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Cynthia nodded. "I want to see Lilian."

Jonathan released her. "Wait for me; I'll come with you."

Cynthia hesitated, aware of his exhaustion and the pressures at the company. Filip's negligence regarding Paradise Resort, coupled with Whitney's maneuvers within Bennett Group (where at least half supported her rise to power), and Shirley's ongoing issues placed an immense burden on Jonathan, particularly with the upcoming annual meeting and the heir announcement.

Jonathan quickly changed; they went straight to Peace Hospital.

Filip sat haggard in the corridor outside the ICU, unshaven for days, his hollow eyes reflecting his turmoil. He sat silently, his thoughts unreadable. Most critically, a week had passed, and he hadn't even seen the child. Cynthia observed his dejection, not sadness. Despite urging him to see the child and pull himself together, he remained unresponsive.

Cynthia fell silent, acknowledging her own inner emptiness. She maintained her outward composure, but the void remained. Changing into sterile clothing, she entered the ICU, leaving Jonathan outside.

"Lilian, I'm here. Why aren't you awake yet?" Cynthia sat by the bed, sighing at Lilian's pale face. "I'm really annoyed with you. You made my life miserable, and now you take a bullet for me? Are you out of your mind?"

She gently massaged Lilian's legs, following the doctor's instructions to prevent muscle shrinkage. "Don't think saving my life erases the past. I remember everything, and I hold grudges. I won't be grateful to you."

Turning her head, she thought she saw Lilian's fingers twitch. She held her breath, but Lilian didn't move again. Dismissed it as her imagination, she sighed deeply. "Lilian, I haven't slept well for days. I keep dreaming of you, of high schoolthe first day, when those boys threw your backpack into the lake."

"You jumped in without hesitation, despite their laughter. You came out soaked, head down, saying nothing."

"They surrounded you, but you lifted your face, calmly looking at each of them. Tears welled in your eyes, but you never let them fall."

"Lilian, I was amazed. I admired your courage. You faced their stares without fear, rising again and again after being trampled."

"That moment moved me deeply. I decided I had to be your friend. I wanted to protect you, to give you a chance to stand with them."

"Lilian, I envy some of your qualities. I admire your determination and drive."

"There are things I've never told you. In my heart, you and Naomi are my closest friends."

Cynthia spoke freely, pouring out years of unspoken feelings, sharing memories of their youth, the small moments and the storms they weathered together.

Exhausted, her heart heavy, she stood to leave. Glancing at Lilian, she saw Lilian's eyes open. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling; silent tears streamed down her face.