?Chapter 1122:


    “Hello, Grandpa. Is something wrong?” Concern colored his voice.


    Edmond barked, “You need toe back right now!”


    “Why? I’m still at work,” Norton said, puzzled. Yvonne shot Edmond a re, trying and failing to smother herughter.


    Edmond’s voice rose, indignant. “Work? If you don’t get back here soon, someone else might just charm your wife out from under you! Your job can wait—what matters now is going home and being with your wife!” Yvonne let out a quiet sigh.


    On the other end, Norton fell silent, piecing things together from the tirade.


    “Got it,” he finally said, then hung up.


    “That blockhead!” Edmond grumbled, staring at the screen. He shook his head with a weary sigh. This foolish grandson of his—would he ever learn what was truly important?


    Just as he was about to slip into another mental rant, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Norton. A screenshot of a ne ticket.


    Only then did Edmond allow himself to rx. A faint smile settled across his face as he leaned back beside Yvonne, ready to enjoy the TV show. But no matter how hard he tried, the unease lingered in the back of his mind.


    A few momentster, he picked up his phone again, fingers tapping with purpose. He shot Norton a quick message with Yvonne’s hospital room number and urged him toe directly to her.


    Only after ensuring everything was in ce did he finally allow himself to breathe easy.


    Norton returned sooner than anyone expected. By the time dawn crept into the sky, he was back—travel-worn, eyes shadowed with fatigue, but driven by unwavering resolve.


    When he stepped into the hospital, Edmond had already retreated to his own room for the night. Yvonne, meanwhile,y in a restless slumber, her breaths shallow and uneven.


    Careful not to wake her, Norton eased the door open and slipped inside. His gaze softened the instant itnded on her pale, delicate face against the white of the hospital pillow.


    His chest tightened with empathy. Quietly, he ced a few small gifts on the bedside table—tokens he had brought just for her. Then he pulled up a chair and settled beside her, gently taking her hand in his own. His touch was feather-light, reverent.


    L?t??τ чh?ρτ?r? ιn gɑl??οv?l?.сo??


    Yvonne stirred almost instantly, her sleep too light to keep him out. Hershes fluttered, and her eyes cracked open, still zed with fatigue.


    She blinked up at him, caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.


    “Norton, why are you back?”


    He offered a faint, weary smile, his fingers brushing over hers with quiet tenderness. “How could I stay away,” he said, “when you’re pushing yourself like this?”


    There was no me in his tone—only deep, honest concern.


    A flush of embarrassment crept up Yvonne’s cheeks. She pulled her hand back, ncing aside. “I’m fine now.”


    Her eyes flicked to her phone and realized it was already past midnight.


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