She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 157

The Sanford Estate was already preparing for a funeral.

Staff hurried back and forth.

An officiant had already been hired to manage the arrangements.

Nathan was discussing details with someone when he saw Luther walking in with Hilda. His eyes instantly reddened. He stepped forward, picked up Annie, and said, "Go see your great-grandmother. She loved you so much."

Annie was a very well-behaved child.

She immediately threw her arms tightly around her grandfather's neck.

She buried her little face against Nathan's collar.

This gave Nathan a measure of comfort.

Hilda's pregnancy was obvious, shocking all the servants. Rebecca, being younger and bolder, couldn't help but step forward and grasp her hand. "The old lady missed you terribly. We all missed you so much."

Tears welled in Hilda's eyes.

She let Rebecca help her up the stairs.

Luther followed behind, his eyes fixed on her retreating back, his gaze dark and unfathomable.

Matilda was taking her final breaths.

Hanging on by a thread.

Waiting for her Hilda, waiting for her Annie.

When Hilda saw the old woman lying there quietly, her chest barely rising, one arm resting outside the covers as if waiting for someone, the tears finally spilled over. She walked slowly to the bed, knelt beside her, and gently grasped her frail, withered hand.

Her tears fell like shattered pearls.

"It's me."

"I brought Annie back."

"Please open your eyes."

"It's Hilda. I brought Annie to see you."

At first, the old woman in the bed didn't react.

She was barely taking any air in, only exhaling.

After a long time, Matilda finally responded. She opened her eyes, though she couldn't see anymore. But she could smell Hilda's scent, and Annie's too. Whenever the two of them sat by her side, it always felt this peaceful, this comforting.

She wouldn't mistake it.

*Her Hilda had come back.*

The old woman let out a long breath, and as if experiencing a final surge of life, a smile blossomed on her face.

Annie quietly called out to her.

Matilda heard it.

Her fingers twitched slightly.

She kept smiling, the deep wrinkles on her face seeming to smooth out.

She was leaving now.

Leaving this world of love and sorrow.

*Luther, treat Hilda well. I'm going now.*

*This is the last time I can look out for you.*

*I'm gone.*

*This beautiful, heartbreaking world.*

Outside the window, the cicadas hummed endlessly.

The leaves rustled gently in the breeze.

It was just an ordinary day.

And just like that, Matilda passed away. They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes, rewinding all the way back before returning to dust, returning to peace.

She was gone.

She looked so peaceful.

Soon, the room was filled with devastating sobs—cries of grief and reluctance to let go.

But she couldn't hear them anymore.

She was gone.

Luther gently closed her eyes.

The entire Sanford Estate was plunged into mourning.

Matilda had lived a very modest life and had long instructed that her funeral not be extravagant. She wanted everything simple, not wanting a spectacle. In her final days, she only wanted to spend two quiet days with her family.

Even so, the necessary formalities were unavoidable.

It was Hilda's journal.

He had brought it from their old home.

His gaze fell on her face, his voice feather-light. "What about this? Is this none of my business either? Hilda, you loved me first. You were the one who always tried to win me over."

Hilda's expression remained completely blank.

She stared at the journal.

That little book held her entire youth.

She said very calmly, "Yes, I loved you first. But I don't love you anymore, okay? Since you've seen it, and since we're divorced, there's no reason to keep it. I might as well burn it."

She snatched the book from his hand.

And walked toward the mourning hall.

Luther stood stunned in the shadows for a few seconds.

Then he quickly followed her.

He watched as Hilda stepped up to the brass brazier, staring silently into the flames. Then, she tossed the journal right in. The fire immediately surged, reducing the physical proof of her love into ash in a matter of seconds.

She burned it all. She wanted none of it anymore.

Luther's chest heaved violently.

Hilda calmly watched it burn, calmly walked right past him, and disappeared into the night.

Luther's harsh voice called out from behind her.

"Hilda."

Hilda didn't pause for a single second.

She and Luther were deeply in the past.

She simply didn't care about him anymore.

The night was heavy and silent.

Luther walked back to the brazier, crouched down, and pinched the lingering ashes between his fingers.

His Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably.

He finally knew what the most important thing he had lost was.

It was the absolute, unconditional love in Hilda's eyes.