Chapter 983: Manuel's Try

Susan returned to the room and, seeing Manuel, burst into tears. Overwhelmed, he embraced her. She cried, gasping for breath, leaning against his chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently. She sobbed silently.

"Don't cry, Susan," Manuel said, wiping her tears. They sat on the nearby sofa. Her tears flowed uncontrollably. Feeling helpless, he asked, "What happened? People who don't know you might think your husband is dead."

"You're not allowed to die!" she declared. "If you dare die in front of me, I'll—I'll beat your body!"

He chuckled. "Don't cry anymore. You're breaking my heart."

Susan composed herself slightly. His gentleness was irresistible. She sniffed, wiping her tears haphazardly. "Besse isn't Hannah."

"Didn't you already accept that?" he asked.

"I thought I was okay, but it still hurts so much. It's like… Hannah died all over again," she said, struggling to maintain control.

"Susan, please don't cry. You're pregnant."

She tried to control herself for the baby's sake, but thoughts of Besse overwhelmed her with despair.

"How can you be sure Besse isn't Hannah?" Manuel asked, wiping her tears.

"She said she's not Hannah and doesn't know me or Oscar. I even asked if she altered her appearance to avoid Oscar, but she denied it. From her expression, I don't think she was lying."

He was silent for a moment. "Besides that, did you ask her anything else?"

"What else?" she asked, puzzled.

"About her past life… or if anything unexpected happened to her," he suggested tentatively.

"No," she shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "What's the point?"

"Not much," he decided, hesitant to say more, fearing disappointment. "Come on, take a shower and go to bed."

"I don't want to. I feel uncomfortable."

"I'll help you."

She looked at him, shocked. "Are you going to…do something? The doctor said no sex for three months."

Ignoring her, he lifted her. She clung to his neck. "Manuel, if you dare, I'll tell your mother!"

"Don't worry, I'm not interested in a pregnant woman."

"Who are you interested in, then?" she challenged.

"..."

He realized his mistake.

The next morning, Besse ate breakfast before leaving Northfield with Doyle. She'd stayed up all night and couldn't describe her feelings. She went to the breakfast room as usual; despite a late night, she woke early. Doyle, a night owl, usually slept in, so she went alone.

She served herself at the buffet and sat down just as a man said, "May I sit here?"

She smiled. "Of course."

"Thank you." It was Manuel.

"Where's your wife?" Besse asked casually.

"Still sleeping. I'll bring her breakfast later," he replied.

Besse nodded approvingly. Even as strangers, his care for his wife was evident.

"Susan told me today's your last day," Manuel began conversationally.

"My flight's at eleven," Besse replied, open and candid. Talking to the couple felt natural.

"She cried last night when she got home," Manuel revealed, smiling indulgently.

"Oh really?" Besse replied, her tone perfunctory; she was tired.

"She mistook you for her friend," Manuel murmured, observing her closely.

He hadn't initially believed it could be Hannah; the explosion had been catastrophic. Even later, when Susan insisted, he'd doubted it. He'd even given Susan reasons to doubt her conclusion, but after yesterday's confirmation, he felt the possibility was very high. Seeing her now, he felt a familiar sense. He shouldn't have questioned Susan; she and Hannah had been close for years. But Susan was naive; she'd easily dismissed her initial impression of Besse.

"Yes, she mistook me," Besse said. "I'm sorry."

Manuel knew she wasn't lying. "Have you ever had any accidents?"

Besse's brow furrowed; she sensed his shrewdness and felt a sense of unease.

"I don't mean to pry," he quickly added, sensing her wariness. "Many things seem strange; it might be more than coincidence."

"What are you saying?" she asked bluntly.

"Have you lost your memory?"

Besse's heart lurched. Only Doyle, his mother, and herself knew.