Chapter 4

Jenna Frost POV

After they left, I went upstairs alone. The cold room caused me to develop a high fever that very night.

When Peyton entered with a medical kit, I was curled up in bed, trembling continuously.

Peyton reached out to touch my forehead-it was burning hot.

"Get the car!"

His brows furrowed sharply as he immediately lifted me in his arms and shouted downstairs.

On the way to the hospital, I leaned against him in a daze, my consciousness blurred.

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a trace of unfamiliar panic on Peyton's face.

Looking at his expression, I suddenly remembered our wedding day.

When my father placed my hand in Peyton's and lifted my veil, the usually calm Peyton was suddenly so nervous he couldn't speak, his eyes as flustered as they were now.

Back then he looked so young, always earnestly taking care of everything for me, never letting me suffer the slightest grievance.

But now, I hadn't seen him look this way in so long.

For a brief moment, I thought it would be nice if time could just stop at this moment.

Unfortunately, it was all just my fantasy.

Carmen's call came when Peyton was in the hospital corridor.

"The house is so dark. I'm scared. Can you come keep me company?"

"Carmen, Jenna has a fever. I..."

"I'm wearing that outfit you like today. Don't you want to see?"

Carmen interrupted him, her voice coquettish.

Peyton's footsteps stopped. He glanced at me sleeping in his arms, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Wait for me."

He handed me to a nurse who had rushed over, but as he turned to leave, I grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Peyton, please... let me see Wade, just once... please."

After a few seconds of silence, Peyton softened his tone.

"Tomorrow. I'll take you to see him tomorrow."

Only then did my fingers go limp and release him, letting myself pass out with relief as the nurse wheeled me into the hospital room.

Peyton stood in place for a moment, then turned and left quickly.

Early morning.

Fireworks suddenly burst into bloom outside the window, illuminating the dark night.

I was startled awake and instinctively grabbed my phone. The screen lit up-the first item was a post Carmen had just made.

In the photo, Carmen held a snow-white dog, smiling with crescent eyes.

Peyton stood beside her, tall and upright, looking exactly like a loving couple.

The caption read: "Thank you to someone for watching fireworks with me. Even the little one got a birthday present!"

My gaze fixed on the dog's neck.

Around it was tied a dark blue knitted scarf, with fine stitching, but it had been crudely cut short and fashioned into a dog collar.

I suddenly remembered that three years ago, I'd stayed up for three nights to knit Peyton a scarf.

When Peyton saw the dense needle marks on my hands, he flew back from abroad that very night and stood in the snow, kissing my fingertips with heartache.

"Frost, I don't want you to suffer even the slightest harm because of me. It hurts my heart."

Those words still echoed in my ears, but now-how ironic. All my harm came from him.

Even that scarf I'd made had now been given to Carmen's dog.

Fireworks continued exploding outside the window. I turned off my phone and lay down, letting tears continuously soak the pillow.

Peyton, this is the last time I'll cry for you.