Three Years Forgotten, Why Go Crazy When I Say Goodbye? novel Chapter 239

"Are you absolutely positive you didn't mishear him?" Jade asked, sounding devastated. "If he told you that to your face, then yeah, I guess that ship has sailed."

Based on her vast knowledge of the male psyche, if a man was interested in a woman, he would do everything in his power to hide his past feelings, not openly confess his undying love for someone else to her.

"I didn't mishear." Even though Willow had felt a sharp pang of sorrow at the time—and even now, the suffocating wave of disappointment still lingered—she was certain of what she had heard.

"Well, if that's the case, then whatever," Jade lamented. "I just think it's such a tragedy. He's such an unbelievable catch, and you two look so damn good together. What a waste."

"It is what it is." Willow thought Jade was projecting far too much onto the situation. Silas had drawn a very clear line by stating he had someone in his heart. Everything else was just their own wishful thinking.

"Fine." Jade was incredibly bummed, but she knew you couldn't force these things.

Thanks to that revelation, the flowers had entirely lost their romantic luster in Jade's eyes. Willow, on the other hand, remained relatively unfazed. Since she had never dared to harbor any hope in the first place, she wasn't shattered by the lack of a fairy tale.

They hung out in the room for a while longer. Once Martha woke up, they video-called her through the glass. Seeing that she was in good spirits and showing no signs of rejection, Willow and Jade finally let out a collective sigh of relief.

After a bit more time passed, Jade decided to head out. It was still the holidays, and although she wasn't particularly close with her immediate family, she still had to make an appearance at various social gatherings and networking events.

The second she stepped out of the room, she practically collided with Silas walking down the hall. The sheer force of his devastating good looks nearly knocked her off her feet.

He was wearing a stark black, tailored overcoat that draped perfectly over his broad shoulders, the sharp lines carving out a fiercely intimidating silhouette. With every step, the hem flared slightly, exuding an aura of absolute dominance. He wore matte black leather gloves, flawless and without a single crease. His long, powerful fingers were casually tucked into his pockets, radiating an unapproachable, icy aristocratic vibe.

"So, do you like them?"

Willow nodded. "I love them. They're perfect for a hospital room."

"Actually, I..."

Silas opened his mouth, fully intending to explain his real motive, but a sharp knock at the door cut him off. A nurse stepped inside, looking apologetic, and informed Willow that a Mr. Sinclair was outside demanding to see her.

Hearing that name, Willow's brow instantly furrowed into a tight knot. Beside her, Silas's expression instantly froze into a glacial scowl.