Desmond couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Jethro,” he said with some trace of amusement, “I don’t need money. I don’t need anything. What I did, I did for myself.”
"Don’t say that,” he insisted. “I’m happy, Desmond. My dad is alive because of you. You have to be appreciated.”
Desmond offered another small smile, but there was something deeper in his gaze. Something unreadable. “I can’t ask for what I really want. You cannot give me what I want."
Jethro blinked. He was confused by the response, unsure of what Desmond meant. “What do you mean? What is it that I cannot give you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.
Sylvester, who was standing by the side, listening with silent interest, stiffened instantly. He knew. He knew exactly what Desmond meant. Desmond wanted Anabel back. And that was something Jethro couldn’t give him.
"No. I can't not let this happen. I had spent too much time and too much effort to have Anabel for myself. I haven't even gotten the money. I can't afford to let it happen even though he had just done the one thing that could easily win her heart again." Sylvester said under his breath. His mind continued to race. He needed a plan. He needed to put disagreement between them, and he had to act fast.
Jethro, still puzzled, pressed on again. “Tell me, Desmond. What do you want? Believe me, I will do my best.” But Desmond smiled faintly and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not in your hands.”
Jethro stared at him for a long moment before sighing. He knew Desmond wouldn’t tell him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t repay him.
“Well, I will get back to you after speaking with my father. If he’s strong enough, I will ask him myself.” Jethro said, and Desmond gave a small nod but didn’t argue.
Jethro reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Let me have your number so I can be able to reach out to you."
Desmond took out his phone, exchanged numbers with Jethro, and pocketed his device once again.
Anabel absentmindedly held her father's hand. She knew she needed to walk up to Desmond and thank him personally. But the past wouldn’t let her. She couldn’t summon the courage. But looking at Desmond...seeing him be the man who saved her father made something deep inside her stir.
As Desmond finally turned to leave, Lady Orton stepped forward and stopped him before he could exit.
“Desmond,” she called softly, and he turned to face her. “Thank you for saving my husband.”
"It’s nothing,” he replied. “What I did wasn’t just for your family. It was for all of us.”
Lady Orton nodded. “I listened to your apology earlier,” she admitted. “And as a mother—I understand the pressure mothers put on their sons.” She sighed lightly and looked up into Desmond’s eyes. “You are not the first to fall into that trap. It’s wrong, yes, very wrong and hurtful, but it’s forgivable.” She paused for a moment before she continued. “For you to stay behind When you were belittled. Even when Anabel and the doctor tried to stop you, it showed that you have a good heart. It shows that you care for this family. For that, I forgive you.” Lady Orton finished, and Desmond nodded gently.
"Thank you very much, ma'am. I'm happy to hear this. Your words have solved half of my problem. I have to leave now." He said and turned to Amabel. Their eyes met. Without saying anything, he turned and left.
Anabel’s breath hitched as she watched him go. Her fingers curled slightly around her father’s hand, her mind racing. Then, suddenly...just when Desmond had gone far, she rushed out of the room to look for him.