Chapter 235

After being rejected, Andrew Lucas drowned his sorrows in alcohol all night and ended up in the emergency room.

Susan Thompson was on set filming when she received the call from Leo Miller. His voice trembled on the other end: "Ms. Thompson, Mr. Lucas is unconscious from a stomach hemorrhage. The doctors say he needs immediate surgery, but he keeps calling your name..."

Her fingers tightened around the phone. She had told herself not to care about him anymore, yet hearing this news felt like an invisible hand squeezing her heart.

"I'll be right there."

Hanging up, Susan hastily excused herself from the director. By the time she reached the hospital, Andrew had already been wheeled into the operating room. Leo stood guard outside, his eyes red-rimmed, relief flooding his face when he saw her.

"Ms. Thompson, Mr. Lucas barely ate these past few days. He survived on alcohol alone. The doctors said if he'd arrived half an hour later, he might have..."

Susan pressed her lips together, staring at the glowing red light above the operating room. She remembered the agony of her own stomach cancer—like thousands of needles piercing through her. No one understood that pain better than her.

Three hours later, the light turned off. The surgeon emerged, announcing the procedure was successful but required rest.

In the hospital room, Andrew lay pale as paper, an IV drip attached to his hand. Susan stood by the bed, watching his closed eyes and furrowed brows, a dull ache spreading through her chest.

"Water..." A weak voice came from the bed.

Susan quickly poured a glass of water and carefully lifted his head. Andrew's eyes fluttered open, and the moment he recognized her, the dullness in his gaze brightened.

"Susan..." His fingers, icy yet burning, wrapped around her wrist. "You came."

She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"Mr. Lucas, let go," she said, turning her face away from his hopeful expression. "I just wanted to see if you were still alive."

Andrew gave a bitter smile. "Would you be sad if I died?"

The question stole her breath. Of course she would—but she couldn't say it.

"Daniel needs his father," was all she offered.

"Just Daniel?" Andrew struggled to sit up, the IV line shaking violently. "What about you, Susan?"

She took a step back, putting distance between them. "Mr. Lucas, focus on recovering. I should go."

"Don't!" He yanked out the IV needle, blood trickling down his hand. Staggering to his feet, he pulled her into his arms. "I know you still care. Susan, give me one more chance—"

Before she could break free, her phone rang sharply.

An unknown number flashed on the screen. She answered, and a mechanically distorted voice spoke:

"Susan Thompson, Daniel Almond is with me."