When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him

Chapter 646 Mistaken All This WhileConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Cecilia instructed Norman to keep a close eye on Paula’s subsequent actions. Unless she was truly in the late stages of cancer, she would never let her off the hook.

After returning home, she once again asked Sven to investigate her father’s car accident from years ago. Despite Norman having said that much of the evidence would likely have been destroyed by now, she yearned for the truth and a definitive answer.

Once everything was done, the woman collapsed onto the couch, utterly exhausted. Despite her fatigue, sleep eluded her, and her mind remained a whirl of chaos.

Memories of childhood washed over her. Her father, his face filled with kindness, would tell her just how wonderful her mother was and how deeply she loved him.

Feeling bitter, Cecilia clutched a pillow tightly against his chest.

She lay on the couch, unaware of how much time had passed before she finally fell asleep.

When the housekeeper noticed, she gently covered Cecilia with a blanket.

Elliot didn’t come home today as the school had arranged for him to experience spending a night at the school.

Nathaniel was also swamped with work and didn’t return home until very late. When he arrived, the housekeeper quietly informed him. “Sir, Mrs. Rainsworth has been lying on the couch ever since she came back this afternoon. She just fell asleep not long ago. I dare not wake her, but she could easily catch a cold sleeping like this.”

Hearing that, Nathaniel responded, “Got it. You get some rest.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The housekeeper left for her own room.

Nathaniel strode purposefully toward the couch, his large hand reaching out to pull Cecilia into his arms and lifting her up together with the blanket.

After taking her upstairs and settling her on the bed, he was about to wash up when the woman seized his hand all of a sudden.

“Don’t leave…”

Nathaniel paused. Did she wake up?

He was about to ask her what was wrong when he heard her mumble, “Dad, please… Don’t leave me… alone…”

Only then did the man realize she was sleep–talking.

The sound of her voice carried a hint of sobbing. Nathaniel gently placed a hand on her face only to discover that her cheeks were streaked with tears.

A lump formed in his throat, leaving him speechless. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting the woman hold his hand.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Cecilia finally awakened. As she opened her eyes, she found Nathaniel sitting by her side, leaning against the headboard and taking a light nap.

She shifted slightly before lowering her gaze to find her hand interlocked with his.

Having just woken up, she still retained the memory of the dream she had. In the dream, she had returned to her childhood, to a moment when she and her father were making ravioli together.

Suddenly, her father had to leave. Terrified, she held onto his hand tightly, begging him not to go.

Unexpectedly, he really didn’t leave; he even promised to stay by her side.

Now, looking at Nathaniel’s broad hand, Cecilia finally understood.

She had only experienced such a dream twice. The other time was when she was hospitalized after being hit by the car driven by Stella’s ex–boyfriend.

However, when she woke up at that time, what she found clenched in her hand was a blazer.

Back then, she had thought it belonged to Calvin.

Looking at Nathaniel’s hand now, she felt she might have been mistaken all this while.

Amid her daze, the man had already stirred. Seeing that she was still holding his hand tightly, he couldn’t help but speak up.

“They’re ugly, aren’t they?”

Cecilia stilled for a moment before noticing the scars on his slender hands, unsure of when they were inflicted.

“When did you hurt your hand? Why are there so many scars?”

She had noticed them back when he was still suffering from amnesia, and she chose not to ask about it at the time.

For some reason, Nathaniel chose not to tell her that it was because he had saved her.

Perhaps he found it too awkward.

“Mason brought me into the woods, and I got scratched.”

Upon hearing this, Cecilia examined his scars in confusion. “What kind of plant could have cut your hand like this? You even have scars on your palm. These cuts… They look a lot like the ones I have.”

A knot tightened in the man’s throat, causing his voice to waver with a hint of hoarseness.

“Do you know what it means when a woman continually holds a man’s hand and stares at him?”