Chapter 128- Indefinitely

Chapter 128: Chapter 128- Indefinitely After his father’s words hung in the room, he took Linda by the arm and left. Linda’s face was etched with worry and heartbreak, and the moment she saw Sean outside, she clutched his arm desperately. "Please... you have to make Morrison go apologize. He has to try to make things right!" Sean’s expression was one of helpless resignation. There was nothing anyone could do. Some things could only be done willingly, by one’s own choice. No amount of urging could force the heart. Once his parents left, the apartment felt colder, emptier. Morrison remained where they had left him, smoke curling lazily from the cigarette between his fingers. He lit another, the ember glowing like a tiny defiance in the dim light. After a long drag, he finally picked up his phone, flipping it open with deliberate calm. Ignoring the dozens of missed calls and notifications that threatened to explode his device, he began typing. Slow, precise, deliberate. Every word, every sentence, went to one person and one person alone: Lilian. Morrison knew that calling Lilian now was useless. Even if he tried, she wouldn’t pick up. Face-to-face was out of the question—Dave and her parents would never let him near her. So he turned to messages. Surely, he thought, she would see these. He didn’t anticipate her determination to abandon even her phone. With painstaking care, he typed each word, each sentence: I was wrong. I’m sorry. Let’s meet. I can’t be without you. It was my stupidity, my recklessness, my betrayal. If you can, give me a chance to start over. I love you, Lilian. After sending the messages, a strange lightness settled in his chest. He knew exactly what sending them implied. If she forgave him, it would mean stepping into a life he could no longer retreat from, a path he could no longer turn back on. Commitment, marriage—all of it unavoidable. Every message he sent was intercepted by Bert, who simply read them, smirked, and set Lilian’s phone aside. Retreat when it’s convenient, end things at will, come back regretting... Bert’s mind sneered. Who indulged him, letting Morrison flit from desire to desire? His previous women, no doubt. Even if Lilian married him, with Morrison’s wandering heart, who knew how long before he grew bored and sought escape again? In Bert’s eyes, keeping Lilian away from a man like Morrison was the wisest choice. Lilian deserved someone steady, devoted, a man whose world revolved around her alone, who would love her, protect her, and cherish her with unwavering devotion. Two days later, Lilian left with Bert. Washington Co. officially returned to Dave’s management, and the storm over Washington Co.’s abrupt cancellation of all collaboration with MOS Corp. was quietly settled by Morrison’s father and Daniel. Both men had enough life experience to understand the bigger picture. Daniel, though still angry over his daughter being hurt by Morrison, recognized the need to maintain order. The cancellation had caused damage not just to Washington Co. and MOS Corp., but to countless other innocent companies. Bert’s decision might have satisfied a momentary impulse, but it risked tarnishing Washington Co.’s reputation permanently. Thus, Daniel persuaded Bert to retract the non-cooperation statement. From then on, no new collaborations would occur, but projects already in motion would continue. Bert’s mind was already elsewhere. His sole focus was on taking Lilian away, so he complied without hesitation. As for Morrison, after sending message after message with no response, panic and anxiety began to gnaw at him. Since he had ended things, Lilian’s social media had gone silent, and her phone was perpetually unreachable. It was as if she had vanished entirely from his world. Finally, after yet another failed call, Morrison completely lost it. He drove straight to Tiffany’s residence, desperate to see her in person. Until now, he had refrained from confronting her directly, thinking it wise to give her some space to cool down. Especially after sending those messages full of his apologies and pleas, he had hoped she would read them and reconsider their relationship. But when he arrived at Tiffany’s place, the apartment door was wide open. Movers were coming and going, carrying boxes and furniture. Morrison froze for a moment, convinced he must have come to the wrong unit, the wrong floor. He checked again—and no, he hadn’t made a mistake. He grabbed one of the movers. "Where’s the person who used to live here?" he asked. The mover answered plainly, "You mean Ms. Tiffany? She said she wanted to move back to her old family house, so she hired us to help her relocate." Morrison’s stomach sank further when the worker continued, "I also heard she’s selling this apartment, the entire building, including the one her daughter owns." His heart seemed to cave in. Lilian... selling her apartment too? He hadn’t expected her resolve to go this far. Tiffany moving back to her family’s old house in Burg Eltz to live with Daniel made sense, but Lilian...? Where would she live after selling this place? Would she also return to the old Burg Eltz home with Tiffany? He could reason it out, yet an inexplicable panic surged through him. Not just a normal unease—this was chaos, a storm ripping through his chest. He stood frozen at Tiffany’s apartment doorway, watching the movers carry in and out, his body cold, every instinct screaming. Then his phone rang. Sean. "B-boss... you—you need to check Lilian’s Moments!" Sean’s voice trembled with panic. "She’s leaving the country!" Sean was close to Lilian, so of course they were connected on social media. Morrison, too, had her on his contacts, but she hadn’t updated anything for days. He hadn’t seen this—he had been rushing to Tiffany’s place, oblivious. And now Sean’s words hit him like a hammer to the chest. Leaving... the country? His fingers trembled as he hung up, fumbling to unlock his phone. He opened her social media, and there it was—a new post. A new photo. The sight of it... made his chest tighten so sharply he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was a photo—her back turned, a backpack slung over her shoulders, walking through the airport security checkpoint without looking back. The caption beneath it read: "Only by letting go of the wrong can you meet the right." Morrison staggered backward, his body almost losing balance, pressing against the cold hallway wall. His first instinct was to call her. The phone rang once... then abruptly, it was cut off. Another call—switched off. Panic clawed at him, leaving no time to think. He bolted down the stairs, threw himself into his car, and sped toward the airport like a man possessed. Only at this moment did Morrison truly realize the weight of the pain he had caused her. The weight was in her selling the home that had carried their shared, sweet memories. The weight was in her leaving, venturing far away from him. Only now did he understand the depth of his loss. The finality of it. He raced toward the airport, but the flight to America had departed just ten minutes earlier. Bursting into the terminal, he came face to face with Dave and his entourage returning from seeing Lilian and Bert off. Daniel and Tiffany were there. Laurent, too, with little Emma Washington. And Morrison couldn’t help but acknowledge just how cruel Bert had been. He had timed it perfectly—sending Lilian off just half an hour before departure, knowing Morrison would drive forty minutes to reach the airport. By the time Morrison arrived, the plane was already gone. The frustration of being so close yet powerless to stop it burned like fire through Morrison’s veins. He kicked himself, thinking that if only he had driven faster... just a little faster... maybe he could have stopped them. But now, the chance was gone. The ache was not just in his heart—it was visceral, a pain that clawed at his chest and ribs. Worse than hearing the news after Lilian had already reached America. Morrison’s mind raced, frantically imagining ways to turn back time, to snatch her back. The sheer helplessness threatened to drive him insane. "Bert... that damn lunatic!" he muttered through clenched teeth. The others glanced at him silently. Tiffany and Daniel ignored him entirely, striding away without a backward glance. Laurent sighed quietly, taking Emma with him, leaving Morrison alone with his spiraling panic. He grabbed Dave before he could leave. "Where did she go? What is she doing? When will she return?" Even after everything, Dave remained a brother of sorts. He didn’t scold Morrison like Bert might have. He simply replied, flatly: "I don’t know the specifics. Bert arranged everything. Where exactly Bert is in the U.S., I have no idea." "And what she’s doing, when she’ll be back—" Morrison pressed, his chest tightening with every second of silence. Dave met his gaze, expression cold. "Possibly... indefinitely. She said that if she gets used to life there, she might not return." Indefinitely. Morrison’s face went pale. Indefinitely? Indefinitely? Indefinitely?