One Last Call Before Goodbye Chapter 20
When Darlene woke up, the first thing she saw was Marshall.
He was sitting on a chair by the bed, one hand holding hers, the other propping up his forehead as he slept.
His cheekbones were more prominent than before, and blue stubble had appeared on his chin.
He was wearing that white shirt, the collar slightly yellowed, and one of the buttons on the cuff was missing.
Darlene looked at him, her nose tingling with emotion.
He hadn’t been like this before.
Back then, his shirts were always spotless, his hair always neat, and when he smiled, he looked like a carefree college student.
Now, he looked like someone who had been crushed by life and crawled out from the ruins.
She moved her fingers slightly.
Marshall’s eyes snapped open.
“You’re awake? Does it hurt? Are you thirsty? Should I call the doctor?” He sprang up, leaned close to her face, and looked carefully into her eyes.
Darlene shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Marshall stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly lowered his head and buried his face in her palm.
Darlene felt something warm and wet in her palm.
She moved her fingers gently, touching his cheek.
“Mardy, can you tell me now—what deal did you make with your mom?”
Marshall raised his head, his eyes red, but his expression had returned to calm.
He held her hand in his palm and explained slowly.
“Three years. Within three years, if I build up the company, she won’t interfere in our affairs anymore.”
Darlene was silent for a long time.
She looked into his eyes; there was a deep exhaustion in them, but even more, a determination she had never seen before.
“Mardy, do you know what three years means?”
“I know.”
He gazed at her tenderly. “Lena, as long as you’re here, I’m not afraid of anything.”
“I’m only afraid if you’re not here.”
Darlene’s tears fell instantly.
She reached out, hugged his neck, and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.
“I won’t leave you.” Her voice was muffled.
“I’ll get better, and I’ll stay with you.”
Marshall held her tightly, his chin resting on the top of her head, saying nothing.
The hospital room was very quiet, with only the sound of cicadas outside the window, one after another.
The month of recovery was longer than Darlene had imagined, but also warmer than she had expected.
Every morning at six, Marshall got up, bought a bowl of oatmeal and two pieces of bread from the breakfast shop next to the hospital, brought them to the ward, and then rushed to the company.
At noon, he hurried back to have lunch with her, handling emails while she took her nap.
Sometimes at night, he worked overtime in the hospital room until the early hours, the blue light from his laptop reflecting on his increasingly thin face.
Darlene sometimes woke up in the middle of the night and saw him asleep at the desk. She would quietly get out of bed and drape her coat over him.
She would crouch down and look at his sleeping face.
Blue stubble had grown on his chin again, his shirt was wrinkled, and even in sleep, his brows were slightly furrowed.
She reached out and gently smoothed the crease between his brows.
“Mardy, you’ve worked so hard.”
He didn’t wake up.
Early the next morning, Darlene took a bank card from under her pillow and handed it to him while he was washing the dishes.
“This is for you.”
Marshall looked at the card, stunned. “What?”
“It’s the money I’ve saved.” Darlene stuffed the card into his hand.
“It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you through for a while.”
“Lena—”
“Let me finish.” She pressed his hand.
“I know you want to rely on yourself and don’t want to use anyone else’s money. But Mardy, I’m not ‘anyone else.'”
“I’m the one you’re going to marry.”
“I’ll always stand behind you,” she looked into his eyes.
“Whether you succeed or fail, whether you have money or not, I’ll be here.”
Marshall lowered his head, looking at the bank card in his hand, his thumb rubbing the surface.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes turned a little red.
Then he put the card away, placing it in the innermost pocket of his wallet.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll accept it.”
“But Lena, remember—”
He held her hand, his palm warm.
“I’ll do my best to give you the best.”