I really didn't want to cry, and I desperately wanted to keep pretending to be strong. But at this moment, I realized I couldn't hold it together at all. I lay on Chloe, sobbing uncontrollably.My only dream in this life was to design, and now I was being told I might never be able to pick up a pen again.I was so close to breaking free from Lyra and so close to chasing my dreams again—why did fate have to deal me this hand?Suddenly, the doorknob turned. I thought it was Roman returning, but instead, I heard Lyra's voice cut through the air. "I want to talk to him alone."Chloe's anger was about to erupt, but I stopped her just in time. "It's fine, I can handle this. Some things need to be resolved properly."I had imagined more than once that Lyra and I would part on good terms, at least not like this. But all of that was just wishful thinking.Lyra looked a bit haggard, her entire demeanor radiating a kind of helplessness I had never seen befor

Mr. Morris reached me first, his hand on my shoulder, attempting to steer me away from Lyra. "Isaac," he urged, "don't waste your energy on her. I'm not helpless. I can secure the investment myself. Let's go."I gently stopped him. "Mr. Morris," I said calmly, "I trust your abilities, and I know you're highly respected. Securing investment isn't the problem, but the exhibition is already scheduled. Changing investors now would undo all our previous work, and that's not worth the disruption."Mr. Morris remained silent, confirming my suspicions. "Mr. Morris," I continued, "don't worry. This is a fair exchange between Lyra and me. I'm not pursuing Luka's responsibility. Her investment in the studio is fine."Lyra's face was darkening, so I subtly urged Mr. Morris to leave, ending the tense standoff.After a short distance, I exchanged a few words with Mr. Morris before dismissing him and continuing alone toward the ward in my wheelchair.Midway, my wheelchair

My eyes met Chloe's, a silent exchange passing between us. The words of thanks lingered on my lips, unspoken.Then, footsteps sounded at the door. I expected Roman, but it was Lyra again.Her entrance was marked by immediate hostility toward Chloe. "Ms. Roberts," she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain, "you're remarkably persistent, aren't you? What's so captivating about clinging to my husband? What could you possibly offer him?"The threat in her tone was unmistakable. "Lyra, stop it," I snapped, my voice sharp.I didn't want another confrontation between the two women. "Chloe," I said, turning to her, "go find Roman and ask him to come home and take care of things."Chloe nodded, her understanding evident. "Okay, Isaac. If you need anything, call me or Roman immediately."As if sensing my lingering concern, she left quickly. The moment the door closed behind her, Lyra locked it, then unfolded the cot beside my hospital bed.Without hesitat