Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 60

Her younger self sat in the passenger seat, a bright, radiant smile on her face.

Beside her, Randal wore a white racing suit, turning his head to look at her with eyes steeped in tenderness.

"Willa, when I win the championship, what do you want as a present?"

"Can you even win?" she teased him playfully.

He raised an eyebrow and reached over to ruffle her hair. "If I don't, I'll just give myself to you as compensation."

"I don't want you," she dodged with a laugh, but her heart was bursting with sweetness.

Subconsciously, she wished this memory could be frozen in time forever.

But in the very next second, the image shattered into pieces.

She was sitting on a plane heading to a foreign country, staring at the clouds outside the window as she cried the entire way.

The scene grew murky and distorted.

She was so tired.

Her whole body ached.

She let herself plummet into the darkness.

"Willa! Willa!"

Suddenly, frantic shouts pierced through her ears.

But she didn't want to wake up; she just wanted to keep sleeping.

Yet, a pair of arms forcefully scooped her up.

The embrace was incredibly warm, the kind of warmth that made her feel safe.

She instinctively shrank closer to that heat.

"Willa, wake up!" It was the same voice again.

She struggled to peel her heavy eyelids open, her blurry vision slowly coming into focus.

It was Randal.

Why was he here?

She wanted to ask, but her lips only parted slightly, unable to form a single word.

He looked at her, sheer panic in his eyes. "You're burning up. I'm taking you to the hospital."

She was bundled into a thick coat and fell back into that familiar embrace.

Resting against his chest, listening to his rapid, powerful heartbeat, the pain inexplicably faded.

It was a magical feeling.

A temporary silence fell over the hospital room.

He stood up and leaned over to feel her forehead. "Your fever still hasn't broken. Why are you always getting sick lately?"

His tone sounded critical, but his eyes were hopelessly soft.

Willa's throat felt a little tight, and she murmured, "Thank you."

Randal stiffened slightly, seemingly not expecting her to be so compliant.

He let out a soft hum, then picked up a glass of water from the table and held it out to her.

Willa took the glass, her fingertips accidentally brushing against his palm. Both of their movements paused for a fraction of a second.

Randal's Adam's apple bobbed. He averted his gaze slightly, a faint dusting of red creeping up his ears.

Willa lowered her head, taking small sips of water, not daring to look at him again.

This was the first time since their reunion that they had interacted so peacefully.

There was no bitter hostility, no tangled web of love and hate. They were more like two old friends reuniting after a long separation, offering just the right amount of care mixed with a trace of distance they couldn't quite erase.

She suddenly found herself yearning for this moment of tranquility, wishing time would just stop here.

But beautiful moments were always fleeting, while pain was endless.