Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 136: Can I...hug you?

Jessica felt rejuvenated. With Davis’s unsolicited help, she had been able to push through the whirlwind of emotions, regaining the composure she had always been known for.

Even so, her decision hadn’t changed—she would talk to him, openly, when she returned. That was the least he deserved. The more she thought about it, the more she understood why she hadn’t rejected his request to explain the tears—because deep down, she wanted to share it with him.

Sliding into her car, she retrieved the few essentials she had abandoned when Davis arrived earlier. Her ID card, stethoscope, a file she had received from Richard and the small box bearing her evidence for the fact she wants to travel—all were placed neatly in her backpack.

She took a moment to breathe in deeply, then stepped out once more, her posture regal and controlled, her head held high. Gone were the traces of vulnerability that had overwhelmed her in the earlier moments. Now, she stood tall, elegant, and composed—like a steadfast wall shielding others from the storm.

Davis watched her silently, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. The shift in her demeanor didn’t go unnoticed. She no longer appeared like the fragile woman whose tears had pierced through his chest like a blade.

No, this woman was the Jessica he knew—the one who had bore the light that illuminated his darkest world, the one who had protected and shielded him against the tidal waves.

She walked up to him and gave a confident nod. "I’m all set," she said, slinging the backpack over one shoulder. Her voice was calm and steady, layered with quiet strength.

Davis’s lips curved into a soft smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "Wishing you success," he said, his tone gentle, warm, and filled with pride—like a spring breeze brushing against the heart.

Jessica paused, momentarily taken aback by how much that one sentence meant to her. It wasn’t just the words. It was the way he said it, the unspoken trust and faith behind it.

She bent slightly, resting her forehead against his. "Thank you," she whispered. "For this morning... for everything."

He didn’t respond with words. His hand simply reached up to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek, and she understood—it was enough.

Straightening herself, she turned toward the hospital entrance. Her steps soft against the concrete, stating her confidence an determination. She didn’t look back, but she could feel his gaze on her like a silent promise of support.

From his position, Davis watched until the automatic doors of the hospital elevator slid shut behind her. He leaned back into the seat, fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh.

For a man who had once been shielded from the world, letting her go alone should’ve stirred panic in him. But now, it didn’t. Instead, it brought a strange kind of comfort.

She was his wife. She was strong. And despite everything, she came back to him—always.

Brian approached from the side, having maintained a respectful distance all the while. "Sir, the guards are back in position. Shall we head back to the estate?"

Davis shook his head. "No. Let’s wait. I’ll stay here until she’s done." Brian was surprised at his words and then he -|hesitated. "Sir, that could take hours."

"I know," Davis said simply, eyes still trained on the hospital entrance. "But this time, she walked through that door stronger than ever. The least I can do is wait for her return." He murmured both to himself and him. Brian gave a respectful nod and stepped away.

Jessica strolled into the elevator, her footsteps light and confident, lips curled into a content smile. As the doors slid shut, sealing her in, she gazed at her reflection in the polished metal wall. Was she really the same woman who had been crying just moments ago? It felt surreal how relieved she felt.

"Maybe," she mused inwardly, "having someone to lean on isn’t such a bad idea after all."

A soft ding interrupted her thoughts. The elevator came to a halt. Coincidentally, the elevator next to hers opened at the same moment.

Slipping the strap of her backpack over one shoulder, Jessica stepped out—only to freeze mid-step. Time seemed to still.

An elderly woman had just emerged from the other elevator, and in the very next second, her foot twisted awkwardly. She began to fall.

Without thinking, Jessica sprang into action. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud. She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around the woman, absorbing the impact with her own body as they both hit the ground.

The breath was knocked out of her lungs, and pain radiated across her back, but she pushed it aside and immediately helped the woman sit up.

"Are you okay?" she asked, voice muffled but calm.

The old woman clutched her chest weakly, her handbag sprawled open with its contents scattered. Jessica bent down quickly to retrieve the items. As she did, the woman’s eyes fell on the necklace dangling around her neck.

The moment she saw it, her breath caught. Her chest began to rise and fall rapidly, panic and emotion etched across her aged features.

Realizing something was wrong, Jessica sprang back to action. She leaned close, fingers gently tracing the woman’s pulse, then immediately began CPR.

As she continued her resuscitation efforts, she couldn’t help the flare of anger bubbling inside her. How can anyone be so careless? Letting an elderly woman walk around unassisted like this?

"You shouldn’t be out here alone," she muttered under her breath. "Where are your children?"

Two hours had passed for the rescheduled surgery to commence, and Bella, who had been waiting for her gor anxious that she came out in search of her. The sight that greeted her made her heart leap.

There was Jessica—on her knees, performing emergency resuscitation in the hospital hallway.

"Jessica!" Bella rushed over, immediately jumping into action. Together, they managed to stabilize the old woman, and within minutes, a team of nurses arrived to wheel her into the ward.

Jessica followed until she was confident the woman was out of danger. After speaking with the attending doctor and confirming her condition had stabilized, she turned to leave.

But a gentle tug on her hand stopped her. Jessica turned back.

The woman’s eyes were soft and warm now, her voice a little shaky but filled with emotion. "Savior... care to share your name with me?"

Jessica hesitated. She hadn’t forgotten the importance of remaining discreet with the situation at in their lives now. Still, the woman’s gaze was so sincere, so pleading, that she couldn’t walk away.

"Jessica Brown," she said at last. She didn’t dare mention the Allen name—not now, not ever. If anything ever went wrong, she would let the Brown family bear the weight of it.

The woman smiled faintly. "You call me Matilda, Can I... hug you?" She asked with genuine smiling hanging on her lips.

Jessica blinked. It was a simple, heartfelt request—nothing out of the ordinary for elderly people who wore their hearts on their sleeves.

She leaned in and gently embraced her. But in that quiet moment, the woman’s hand subtly moved to her hair, plucking a loose strand. But Jessica didn’t notice.

After a few exchanged pleasantries, Jessica finally took her leave, unaware that the brief encounter had left behind more than just gratitude—it had left behind a piece of her.