Denver Petal watched her mumbling to herself, feeling only guilt.

Indeed, eight years is too long, enough to change many things, many people.

Yet the silly girl who suffered the most back then remains stubbornly the same, even if she appears confident and proud, even if she has become graceful and experienced in dealings, without a trace of the youthful naivety of the past.

She is still herself. When facing him, she would show weakness and grievance.

"Josephine..."

Denver’s voice was low as he looked at her, calling softly.

Josephine Holland pressed her lips together and looked at him, "I beg you, will you come back?"

"It’s all in the past." Denver exhaled, looked at her, and as if making a firm decision, said word by word, "It’s been too long. Even if I still have feelings for you now, it’s no longer related to love. I can’t deceive myself, nor can I deceive you. Even if I reluctantly stay with you at present, I believe what’s waiting for us would only be pain. Step back and the sea will open vast and wide, you’re so smart, you must understand, don’t you?"

"No," Josephine shook her head, "I don’t understand."

"But I already have a woman I like," Denver pressed his lips and suddenly said.

He hadn’t revealed his feelings for Olivia Williams before, Josephine Holland still held on to illusions, but at this moment, facing Denver’s serious expression, she was stunned for a second, her soft lips trembling.

She really... could not accept it.

Both of them were silent for a moment.

Not long after, Frank Holland returned, carrying a bag of food.

Denver glanced at him, stood up, and said, "Let her eat something first. I’m going out for some fresh air."

"Hmm," Frank responded briefly.

Denver nodded, stepped out of the emergency room, walked through the hallway, and out of the lobby.

The night was cool, stars sparse.

He stood by the flowerbed, smoked a cigarette, and suddenly missed Olivia Williams a bit.

He felt that it was actually inevitable.

The issue concerning Josephine Holland had always been weighing on his mind. For eight years, although he seemed to have recovered, in reality, many times it was difficult to ease the burden. Olivia Williams’s gentle and peaceful nature seemed like a haven and easily attracted him, making him never want to leave once settled.

At this moment—

In the emergency room.

Josephine Holland drank half a bowl of porridge, but her appetite was gone.

Frank Holland tidied up the things, without saying a word, sat down on the bench.

"Brother," Josephine looked at his face, cautiously called him, pressing her lips.

She was pampered since childhood, but she was a little afraid of Frank Holland, who was silent at this moment. She had crossed the line.

Sure enough—

Frank’s voice was cold and hard, "Don’t call me brother. I’m not your brother."

"I was wrong," Josephine quickly said.

"He’s already married. From today, you should also put your mind at rest."

"I..."

"I’m only saying it this once," Frank said flatly, "It’s him or me, you choose one yourself."

"Brother!"

"The choice is yours," Frank’s sharp eyes watched her, raising an eyebrow, "Do you understand? Time has changed people, he no longer has you in his heart. If you continue seeking despair for such a man, demeaning yourself, I’ll make sure it won’t end well for you."

"Brother!"

"How’s your health?" Frank suddenly asked.

"It’s fine now," Josephine looked at him timidly, her face full of grievance.

"If you’re fine, then discharge from the hospital," Frank said decisively, and went to the on-duty doctor.

Josephine watched his tall and slender back, biting her lip. She didn’t dare utter a word, her eyes shimmering with tears.