The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 962

Although Jamison's cancer was cured, no one knew if or when it might relapse.

Adela naturally couldn't help but worry.

"Good... thank you for your hard work... The things I said to you in the past, the things I did... I want to say, I'm sorry... You and Jamison, be happy together..."

After all these years, the matriarch still remembered how she had made things difficult for Ivy, and in her final moments, she publicly apologized to her daughter-in-law.

Ivy wept uncontrollably, nodding as she trembled. "I don't blame you, I really don't... Jamison and I will be fine. I'll always stay by his side and take care of him."

Adela showed a relieved expression before shifting her gaze to her eldest daughter-in-law. "Davina... your kids are grown now... it's a bit easier... but Carla... I have to trouble you... to look out for her."

Davina cried and nodded. "Mom, don't worry. We'll take care of her."

Having entrusted her most worrisome daughter and youngest son to the others, the matriarch let go of her earthly attachments, her expression visibly growing more serene.

She rested quietly for a few seconds before her gaze shifted away, looking around the room one last time with deep nostalgia, as if bidding a final farewell to everyone.

Danny sat by the bed, holding his wife's other hand and patting it gently. "Don't be afraid. I'll come find you soon. Don't be afraid."

The matriarch struggled to pull the corners of her lips into a faint smile, as if responding to him, before slowly closing her eyes.

She was entirely at peace, devoid of regrets, passing away quietly surrounded by loved ones.

The hospital room was packed, and everyone broke down into agonizing, uncontrollable sobs.

Ivy held onto Adela's hand until the medical staff came in to respectfully cover her.

Jamison pulled Ivy up and calmly communicated the subsequent arrangements with the doctor.

Knowing that his mother had never suffered a day in her life, Jamison refused to send her body down to the cold, gloomy morgue.

Her body was transported directly to the funeral home, where the mortician carefully prepared her, dressing her in beautiful, elegant clothes that made her look impeccably dignified.

That night, the wake was supposed to be overseen by Thad and Jamison.

But considering Jamison's health condition, Thad insisted that his younger brother go home and rest.

Jamison adamantly refused.

Just as the two brothers were arguing, Carla, who had been out of her mind with grief for years, quietly appeared.

She stared blankly at her mother resting amidst the flowers, then stepped up to the casket, resting her hand on the polished wood, and bowed her head in a long, silent prayer.

Jamison frowned, his heart filled with confusion.

Thad stepped forward. "Carla, why are you here?"

Carla remained standing by the casket, placing a single white rose beside Adela as she softly choked out, "Mom is gone. How could I not be here?"

Davina walked over, standing beside her and comforting her with a hand on her shoulder. "Don't say that. Mom left us very peacefully. She had no regrets and didn't blame anyone. You've been by her side day and night these past few years. You were the most devoted one of us all."

Despite the comforting words, the last person in the world who had unconditionally protected her was gone forever. How could she not be devastated?

The matriarch's funeral was a grand affair, attended by nearly every prominent figure in the city.

Over several busy days, Jamison personally oversaw every detail.

Ivy worried about his health, but knowing he couldn't simply step away from arranging his mother's final rites, she silently stayed by his side, making sure he ate and rested.

A week after Adela's passing, Jamison suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, bolting upright in bed.

Ivy woke up at almost the exact same time.

Staring at her husband's silhouette in the dark, she sat up and asked in concern, "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"

"No..." He shook his head, composing himself before speaking. "I dreamt of Mom."

Ivy had guessed as much.

She thought about how her husband hadn't shed a single tear from the moment his mother passed to the end of the funeral. It wasn't that he wasn't grieving; rather, the pain was so extreme that his tears had dried up completely.

But holding it all in was terrible for his health.