Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime-Chapter 810 - Comfort_1
Chapter 810 -810 Comfort_1
When she awoke, Gavin Graves was sitting by the hospital bed,
Purple Summers was stunned for a moment, then all the events rushed into her mind one after another. She remembered the news and the photo she had seen just before she fainted—
She could not have mistaken that piece of fabric.
Alexander Summers had specially prepared an old-fashioned, richly ornamented Mandarin jacket for her. She had been impressed by its superior craftsmanship, even the buttons were set with turquoise, and the decorative edging was gorgeous and exquisite, every detail spoke of delicacy.
Purple Summers could hold back no longer, tears cascaded like a waterfall, and she sat on the bed, weeping loudly!
Was Alexander Summers still alive?
...
If even his clothes were blasted to tatters, could he still be alive?
She had always known that this man was full of evil deeds, mixing daily with wolves and tigers, and would surely not end well! Just like every family head of the Howard Family who met with untimely deaths!
Time and again, she had been terrified for him, time and again she had borne the burden of guilt, until one day, Alexander Summers told her that he wanted to be a good man. She had been so joyful that she couldn’t contain herself, and her heart had lightened.
But now she regretted it!
If the cost of washing his hands clean was so ghastly, she would rather he had remained the villain he was! She would choose him to be a vile villain over losing his life so senselessly right now!
Gavin Graves stepped forward and gently stroked her back. She was crying so painfully, her shoulders convulsing violently, that Gavin Graves hardly dared to touch her.
“He won’t die,” Purple Summers wept until she was drained, a veil of darkness began to cover her vision, her consciousness gradually dissipating, and she heard Gavin Graves continually calling her name softly.
But that voice was getting farther and farther away, farther and farther…
She could not hear clearly anymore, nor did she want to.
In her confusion, she remembered what Alexander Summers said on the phone that even what her own eyes saw might not be the truth…
Was he hinting for her not to believe the news? Not to believe that blood-stained cloth? Or… not to believe in Gavin Graves?
Purple Summers was grief-stricken to the extreme, her mind clouded, dark suspicions arising in her heart: Alexander Summers knew all too well Damian Howard’s ambitions and would not have been unprepared, and Damian Howard, even if intending to deal with Alexander Summers, would not kill everyone on the yacht, so who exactly was responsible for the explosion?
Why couldn’t it be Gavin Graves? After the explosion, the Howard Family was severely damaged; wouldn’t the Graves Family then conveniently rise to the top?
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Alexander Summers told her not to trust anyone; did he mean not to trust Gavin Graves?
As her consciousness blurred, she felt many people entering the hospital room, a chilling liquid was injected into her skin, and Purple Summers drifted into a deep sleep.
In her dream, she saw Alexander Summers, dressed in a vintage satin Mandarin jacket, sitting in a scented rosewood armchair, with a dark red brocade cushion behind him, holding a sky-blue Ru porcelain teacup in his hand, his brow arched in a sly smile, debonair and stunningly handsome.
He scolded her in the dream, his tone as disdainful and repulsive as ever, yet his eyes held indulgence: “Are you a pig? Do you believe everything others say, huh?”
…
When she woke up again, Purple Summers had become much calmer.
She lay flat on the bed and saw Gavin Graves by her side. She said softly, “Young Master Graves, I appreciate you making this trip, but don’t worry, I’m alright now.”
Her voice was hoarse as if it had been scraped with rough sand.
Gavin Graves said, “Purple, all this will pass, you’re still young, and there is a long road ahead of you.”
It sounded like he was comforting her.
Purple Summers shook her head, her tone very calm, “He’s not dead, Young Master Graves, thank you for looking after me, but there’s really no need to keep comforting me. A piece of torn fabric doesn’t prove anything, I won’t make a mistake again.”
When she fainted from crying, Gavin Graves was genuinely worried she wouldn’t make it through, but now that she had finally calmed down, Gavin Graves was even more worried.
Just as a drunk person claims they are not drunk, as a mad person asserts they are not mad.
Heartbroken to the extreme, is like a heart turned to ashes.
