Chapter 133- forgive

Words : 1247 Updated : Oct 5th, 2025

Chapter 133: Chapter 133- forgive To Lilian, whatever Morrison said or did now—it no longer meant anything. That abrupt breakup of his had left her heartbroken at first, yes, but also... it forced her to step back and truly examine their relationship over the past year. And the more she thought about it, the more foolish she felt—for giving her heart so easily to a man like him. She had known from the beginning what kind of person he was: fickle, charming, never content to stay still. And still, she had let herself fall. This breakup didn’t just hurt her. It burned through every last shred of credibility Morrison once had in her eyes. If they were to meet again one day, she wouldn’t avoid him. She wasn’t that cowardly—she wasn’t the kind of woman who couldn’t even face an ex. She would meet him with a calm smile, exchange polite greetings, act as though nothing had ever happened. But love? No. There would be none of that left—not even a trace. Better to return to where they started: she, Dave’s little sister; he, her brother’s friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. After landing in the States, Morrison didn’t waste a second. He hailed a cab straight to Bert’s company—a small design firm with barely a dozen employees. He’d heard that, in the beginning, Daniel had helped Bert build it into a fairly large operation. But Bert had poured all his energy into his endless feud with Dave, letting the company slide into decline. Now, this was all that remained. When Morrison arrived, it was nearly closing time. Bert wasn’t there. So, Morrison turned to Bert’s employees, asking for his address. Not one of them knew. Even Bert’s own assistant had no idea where he lived. And they weren’t lying, either—they swore their boss was like a ghost, always appearing and disappearing without a trace. Looking at their expressions, Morrison believed them. And the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. For a lunatic like Bert, guarding his private life like a state secret was exactly the kind of thing he’d do. By now, the sky had already darkened. Morrison booked a hotel near the company, checked in, and immediately dialed Bert’s number. The phone was off. Frustration gnawed at him. He ordered some food without appetite, took a shower, and kept calling. It wasn’t until past eleven at night that the call finally went through. "Where are you?" Morrison asked at once, voice tight with urgency. Bert chuckled on the other end. "Why so eager to know where we are? Don’t tell me... Morrison came all the way to America?" "Yes." The word came out through clenched teeth. Bert laughed again. "Well, well. Looks like Morrison does have some sincerity after all. But let me make this clear—just because you flew halfway across the world doesn’t mean the wounds you gave her magically disappear. I’m not letting you see her that easily. Not this time. So, why don’t you save yourself the trouble and go home?" When Bert decided to play mad, few people could stomach it. His voice turned mocking. "Morrison, you think one trip is all it takes? That I’d just hand her over like that? No. You want to see her? Fine—how about after seventy-two trials? That sounds fair, doesn’t it?" He didn’t even try to hide that he was deliberately making things difficult. "Whether I see her or not isn’t for you to decide!" Morrison snapped. "Put her on the phone—I’ll ask her myself!" Bert let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "Wouldn’t it hurt more to hear her say ’no’ herself? Don’t waste your energy, Morrison." Rage churned in Morrison’s chest. "Bert, don’t make this so absolute!" Bert’s reply was sharp as a knife. "I will make it absolute. And what can you do about it?" Then the line went dead. When Morrison called again, it didn’t go through. He very nearly threw his phone at the wall. He waited three days near Bert’s company. Three days—and Bert never once showed up. In the end, he had no choice but to leave empty-handed. He couldn’t find Bert. Couldn’t find her. And back home, Karl was barely holding things together. Morrison had to return and pick up the mess. When Morrison first arrived in America, he had been a bundle of nerves—restless, anxious, afraid. Afraid he wouldn’t see her, couldn’t reach her. Afraid she might meet someone new, start a fresh romance with another man. But by the time he left, that anxiety had settled into something colder, steadier. If he couldn’t see her this time, he would come again. And again. And again. He refused to believe he could chase her across the ocean, over and over, and never once catch a glimpse of her. He was ready for the long game now. And when you’ve already decided to endure the long game, what’s left to panic over? He didn’t even fear the idea of her dating someone else in his absence. The day he found her—that would be the day she broke up with whoever dared to stand beside her. But based on what he knew of her, that wasn’t likely anytime soon. If she were the kind of woman to throw herself into another man’s arms, she would have truly been with Karl long ago, not just pretending for show. Only after losing her did he understand how rare she was. Only after losing her did he realize—he could spend his entire life loving just one woman. So be it. Let time run its course. When Morrison returned to Burg Eltz, Linda was already waiting at his door. "Did you see Lilian?" she asked the moment he stepped in. Morrison said nothing. His face was drawn, exhausted, as he trudged up the stairs. He hadn’t slept properly for days in America. Now, after another long-haul flight back and a mountain of work waiting for him, he was more than just tired—he was drained to the bone. Linda read the answer in his silence. Following him up the stairs, she sighed softly. "Son... can you tell me what’s in your heart now?" she asked gently. "Is it Lilian or no one? Or... are you willing to start over with someone else?" She had her suspicions. She knew Bert—ruthless to the core. She could only imagine the obstacles her son must have faced over there. And after being blocked, mocked, and toyed with like that... would Morrison still have the will to fight for Lilian? Her son had always been proud—especially when it came to women. Would his pride allow him to keep chasing, or would it force him to let go? On the staircase, Morrison paused. Turned his head slightly, eyes flat as stone. "If you want a grandchild, put your hopes on Karl," he said faintly. "Don’t waste your time on me." And with that, he kept walking—step after step, until his door shut behind him. Linda froze there on the stairs, stunned. Those words... they were his answer, weren’t they? Don’t waste your time on me—that meant he had already made up his mind. His heart was set on Lilian, and Lilian alone. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or aching. Relieved, because her eldest son had finally learned to stay true to someone. Aching, because he was no longer young... and who knew when, or if, Lilian would ever forgive him.

Chapter 133- forgive

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