Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 205

Izabella's condition had been pretty unstable, and it seemed like she might be in danger at any moment or stay in a vegetative state forever.

In the blink of an eye, Brett had already spent a month in the hospital. The ward had become like his second studio, where he worked quietly and took care of Izabella, chatting with her whenever he had the time.

The doctor said that talking to her might stimulate her brain to regain consciousness.

Brett spent most of his time by Izabella's side, playing her favorite violin music and giving her massages.

Someone in a vegetative state lying in bed without moving for so long would cause their muscles to atrophy. Even if they ever regain consciousness, they wouldn't be able to move like a normal person.

Every day, Brett spent a lot of time massaging her legs and moving her body to maintain her muscles and joints.

The wounds on Izabella's fingers had begun to heal slowly, but the tiny holes from the countless stitches still remained, looking like they would never disappear.

These were Izabella's hands. The once delicate fingers had now turned into some thing abnormal. Brett's pupils shrank as he stared at her bald fingertips.

Brett's breath hitched for a moment. "Will her nails ever grow back?"

The doctor shook his head. "They won't recover unless she gets fake nails."

Izabella used to be a perfect woman, inside and out, from head to toe. But now, her hands were simply hard to look at.

He knew that her hands were severely injured, permanently disabled, and her nails might never grow back.

He had always thought that there had been no changes in their relationship over the years, but actually, the only one who hadn't changed was him. In just a few short years, things had changed so much, and Izabella was no longer the the same person that she used to be.

He had wasted all the love between them.

Izabella had even kept her stomach cancer a secret from him. What else didn't he know?

Brett asked Liam to help clear out the villa in Quiet Forest Estates. While cleaning it out, they found several items in the underground warehouse.

Liam carried the wooden box to the hospital. "President Windham, I found this in the underground warehouse. It was hidden very well, so I didn't open it. It should all be Mrs. Windham's stuff."

Izabella's? What could it be? After a while, Brett got up and squatted down next to the box.

The wooden box was locked, so without a key, he forced it open. The contents of the box were revealed after it was opened.

It seemed a bit old. Brett frowned, thinking it would be something important, but instead, it was a bunch of random items.

The wooden box was filled with a variety of things, such as handmade stars and paper cranes, and half-knitted scarves. There were even a dozen or so drawings, done in a childlike style, all without faces.

As he flipped through a few more, Brett froze.

Liam curiously peeked over. "President Windham, that looks like you."

It wasn't "looks like", it was definitely Brett. Reading Brett, working Brett, eating Brett, sleeping Brett; the drawings were like a photo album documenting his everyday life.

Brett's eyes suddenly filled with warmth, and a heavy, indescribable ache struck his heart.

Ever since he found out that Izabella had mistaken him for the person who saved her 16 years ago, Brett had always questioned her feelings for him.

Would Izabella have ever liked him if it weren't for that initial mistake?

Would she have drawn him if there were no feelings between them?

Brett felt a surge of emotion in his heart, and the once dormant heart suddenly became lively again after a month of silence.

After taking out the drawings, he found a notebook at the bottom of the box.

It was a diary, filled with Izabella's handwriting. The pages had been torn out but pieced back together.

Brett opened it up to the first page.

May, 20XX

It's supposed to be getting closer to summer, but the weather has been awful lately, constantly raining and cold.

Work, work, and more work... I'm only 18, and my life is going to be like this forever?

Grandpa said he'll give me all the family property to manage the Salotti Group, but I don't want to manage it. My dream is to become a violinist.

Dad scolded me today, calling me a whore's daughter.

June, 20XX