?Chapter 2127:


    She didn’t believe him—not for a second. How could she? He had once shared not just a home, but a bed, a life with Elissa.


    Still, she held herposure, forcing a polite smile. “Alright… I’ll step out. Rest well.”


    Ernest gave a small nod, his eyes locked on hers. There was no warmth in his gaze—only a quiet insistence.


    With clenched teeth and a heavy heart, Linda turned her wheelchair around and left the room, each roll of the wheels echoing her reluctance. The door clicked shut behind her.


    Inside, Ernest stared nkly at the ceiling, unmoving. His eyes remained open, refusing thefort of sleep.


    Later, a caregiver entered briefly to rece his IV bottle. When she emerged, she found Linda waiting outside, eyes fixed on the door.


    “How is he?” Linda asked quietly.


    “Mr. Flynn’s asleep now,” the caregiver replied gently. “The fever’s starting to go down.”


    Linda exhaled, long and weary. “Good… that’s good. You can return to your duties.”


    “Yes, Miss Harris.”


    Once the caregiver disappeared down the hall, Linda turned her gaze back to the closed door, her voice barely more than a whisper. “She’s gone… and I know your heart is shattered. I’ll give you time and space to mourn. But I won’t let your sorrow drown you, Ernest. Not again. I won’t let you disappear into that grief. You can’t let me down—not this time.”


    As dusk settled outside, Linda approached Ernest’s door with his caregiver by her side. She knocked gently. “Ernest, are you awake?” No reply.


    The caregiver offered quietly, “He was awake a little while ago—just after the IV was removed.”


    “Alright,” Linda murmured, and then reached for the doorknob. She turned it slowly and pushed the door open with care.


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    Before entering, she nced at the caregiver. “You can go now. I’ll handle it from here.”


    “Yes, Miss Harris,” the caregiver said with a nod, giving Linda’s wheelchair a light push through the doorway before quietly closing the door behind her.


    “Ernest?” Linda called softly.


    The bed was empty.


    Then—the sound of water echoed faintly from the bathroom. Ernest must have been in the shower. She wheeled herself closer, just as the water sputtered and shut off.


    A momentter, the bathroom door swung open—Ernest stepped out, steam curling around him, a towel slung low around his waist, water still dripping from his hair and shoulders.


    “Ernest, you—”


    He froze. Eyes locked on hers. For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then suddenly, Ernest stepped back and mmed the bathroom door shut with a sharp thud.


    Linda sat frozen, momentarily stunned.


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