Silently, Mitchel gazed at her, offering no response.
However, Raegan didnât need his response.
She simply let the affectionate term slip from her lips for one final time.
âMr.
Dixon.
â Reverting to the formality of their initial encounter, Raegan introduced a sense of detachment greater than anything they had known before.
âMr.
Dixon, I surrender.
â Raegan beheld Mitchel standing mere inches away, yet he lingered like an elusive mirage, intangible and distant.
Raegan passed by him with a brush of her presence, and her parting words, though soft as a whisper in the wind, resonated with crystalline clarity.
âFrom now on, I wonât pester you anymore.
â
Tears cascaded down Raeganâs cheeks, marking her farewell.
She made no effort to mask her breakdown.
Instead, she regarded her tears as a farewell both to her former self and to him.
She accepted that Mitchelâs love had faded.
She also acknowledged that love had its limits.
This time, she released without reservation, without needing anyoneâs persuasion.
At that moment, fantasies, regrets, bonds, and hesitations all found their resting place.
Mitchel remained fixed, a statue immobilized by her words.
He observed the gradual disappearance of Raeganâs slender silhouette in the carâs reflection, and a sudden pang seized his heart as if it were being torn apart.
It wasnât that he lacked the desire to turn around, but something as simple as that⦠He found himself unable to.
Matteo sensed something awry as Raegan departed and hastened toward Mitchel.
âMr.
Dixon,â he called out, his voice tinged with concern.
Mitchelâs face was a mess, drenched in sweat, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Matteo, aware of the watchful eyes behind them, feigned opening the car door while quickly grabbing Mitchelâs arm to support him.
Eventually, Mitchel managed to lift his stiff legs and climb into the car.
However, once inside, he couldnât even settle back into the seat and just collapsed onto it.
Startled, Matteo quickly shut the car door, hoping no one behind them would spot any issues.
Once back in the driverâs seat, Matteo saw that Mitchel struggled to sit up by himself.
He was about to help, but Mitchel snapped at him, âDrive!â
Matteoâs hand twitched, and he clenched his jaw as he started the engine.
Suddenly, Matteo heard a sound.
âPoof! Mitchel, in the backseat, tried to sit up forcefully but failed.
He ended up coughing blood.
â
âMr.
Dixon!â Matteo instinctively hit the brakes, intending to stop the car.
âNo⦠Keep going,â Mitchel said, clenching his fist, his voice strained.
âHead back to Serenity Villas.
â
Mitchel had moved back to Serenity Villas again.
Without permission, Matteo didnât dare stop the car, yet he was anxious.
âMr.
Dixon, we should get you to a hospitalâ¦â
âNo need,â Mitchel replied, his face as pale as a sheet, coldly dismissing the idea.
The hospital couldnât really help.
They would just give him painkillers.
He was poisoned, and even the best hospitals couldnât figure out the poison or offer an antidote.
Soon, Mitchel would need a wheelchair to get around.
Watching his body weaken day by day, unable to stop it, overwhelmed him.
He decided to face it alone.
If the person he loved could live out her days in peace, that would be enough.
Upon arriving at Serenity Villas, Matteo assisted Mitchel to the front gate, yet Mitchel simply waved his hand dismissively and said, âGo back.
â