No action or words could change Elissa’s decision anymore.

Regardless of his desperate entreaties, his efforts would prove futile.

Elissa no longer desired him. She had even abandoned Locke, much less him. He had always recognized that their relationship existed in imbalance—him desperately clinging while she remained distant.

Without Locke serving as a connection, he held no significance in her world.

Ernest shut his eyes, allowing darkness to engulf his sight completely. The most profound anguish in existence stemmed from separation among the living and final partings in death.

He had endured the agony of a metaphorical “death” before, when he believed Elissa and Locke had perished in that air crash.

He had felt overwhelming relief upon discovering they hadn’t actually been on that plane.

But this separation carried genuine finality, a reality he would confront next week.

The simple thought contorted his heart into agonizing knots. Even drawing breath became a struggle.

What options remained for him? This torment… he lacked the strength to endure it.

Each morning, Eric ensured Joy’s comfort before departing for the office alongside Hadley.

Hadley’s health showed minimal improvement, but mercifully, it hadn’t deteriorated further. The treatment appeared to be yielding modest results.

Upon reaching the Scott Group’s subterranean parking garage, Eric emerged from the vehicle and strolled hand in hand with Hadley toward the elevator. At that moment, they came face-to-face with Gifford.

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Eric’s frame went rigid instantly, his stare cutting through the air like a razor as it fixed upon Gifford.

“Eric.” Hadley observed his transformation and immediately understood the cause. She tugged gently at his sleeve and shook her head firmly. “Don’t waste your energy on him.”

“Agreed.” Eric composed himself and resumed walking beside Hadley.

However, certain individuals simply could not resist provoking conflict.

“Well, if it isn’t Eric?” Gifford leered as he advanced, his voice dripping with contemptuous mockery. “Escorting your wife to the office, I see? I understand she’s unwell. Is she managing? I’ve been quite concerned about your situation. Perhaps you should simply remain home and provide her with proper care.”

Eric’s hands curled into tight, trembling fists.

Gifford’s smile stretched wider, his provocations growing increasingly audacious. “What’s troubling you? Want to strike me? Come on! What’s holding you back?”

If Eric touched him violently, he would be falling directly into Gifford’s carefully laid trap. Gifford would call the police on him without hesitation.

With a crucial project currently under consideration, any mistake from Eric would certainly hand Gifford an advantage.

Having vulnerabilities left one defenseless.

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