A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 300

Mason stood defiantly in the pouring rain, blocking Matilda's path. He was reckless, gripping her shoulders tightly. "I know I'm responsible, Matilda," he said, his voice a mixture of desperation and remorse. "I never meant for things to go this way... I lost control that day because I couldn't hold back, I—"

"Stop," she interrupted him, her voice soft but firm.

With a gentle nudge, she brushed his hands away, a subtle motion he found himself powerless against.

"Let's save ourselves some dignity."

She didn't wait for a response before turning away, disappearing back into the rain-soaked evening. Mason stood there, the courage to reach out for her again evaporating like the rain on hot pavement.

He thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to bow out of Matilda's life.

...

Thanks to Mason's stunt, Matilda ended up catching a cold that quickly spiraled into a fever.

By the time she got to the hospital, it was Keaton, that charming younger brother of Chase, who greeted her. He glanced at the thermometer with a whistle. "Holy smokes, 104 degrees! That's even more badass than last time! Have you picked out your plot yet? I can recommend a good undertaker, because you sure as hell shouldn't be here—might as well find a cozy spot in the ground."

Matilda thought to herself, how could someone so devilishly handsome be such a relentless teaser? But before she could voice her thoughts, she fainted just like last time, with a clatter that echoed through the hall.

Keaton caught her with the grace of a gentleman escorting a queen, shouting down the hall, "Make way, people! We've got a fainter here—get a room ready!"

When Matilda came to, she saw Yvan sitting beside her. She thought she was hallucinating. Hadn't she seen this scene before?

Sadly, the person beside her was no longer the same.

Yvan looked up from his phone, meeting her gaze. "Awake?"

Matilda didn't speak.

With a sigh, Yvan stood up, a picture of reluctant acceptance. "Well, if you're awake, I'll take my leave."

"Thank you, and goodbye," Matilda replied quickly, her response more polished than before.

How many trials must one endure to achieve such composure, to remain dignified even in the most awkward of entrances and exits?

Yvan paused mid-step, looking back at Matilda. She was still feverish, her lips pale, likely parched with thirst.

He bought water for her and placed it by her bedside. She didn't reach for it. The man turned silently and this time, he truly left.

"But back then..."

"Right, back then you thought you had seen the truth," Keaton leaned in, his voice steady and sure. "But is seeing really believing? Yvan, I told you before, make amends while you can, don't wait until it's too late and live with regret."

Truth was, he already had regrets. But the truth of five years ago? He dared not pursue it.

Keaton seemed to see right through his hesitance, clapping him on the shoulder. "Yvan, Matilda's had it tough. Before you go blaming her for whatever happened five years ago, consider this—she's done her time. What does she owe you now? She's weathered the storm, raised your son. You've got to have some conscience... You're blinded by power and can't see the true emotions, but us onlookers see it all too clearly. If you don't make it right, and instead, keep pushing her, she'll only hate you more. Is that really what you want?"

Is that what he wanted?

No, he didn't want to see that look of bitter hatred in Matilda's eyes.

It was like waking from a dream. Yvan looked at Keaton, "But now... Is it too late?"

Keaton's gaze drifted toward Matilda's room. "I don't know. Maybe it's already too late. Yvan, some things can't be forced. You had her in the palm of your hand and you let go. Now she's flown away, and you can't catch up."

You can't catch up.