Quentin hurried back to his room, his heart light—until he opened the door. The sight before him made his blood run cold. Amanda was sitting on the floor, clutching her chest, sobbing with a soundless, bone-deep agony.
"Mandy!"
He slammed the door shut and dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands trembled as he cupped her small face, his voice thick with worry. "What happened? Why are you crying? Talk to me!"
Amanda blinked, a heavy tear splashing onto his hand. She looked at him through a blur of salt and grief, her voice coming out in a broken rasp. "That year... I remember you said you had a vital conference in Nam City. Why did you cancel it to come on that beach trip with the rest of us?"
Quentin froze. His gaze flickered to the yellowed photograph clutched in her hand. A bitter, weary smile touched his lips. He had spent years trying to bury that memory, yet here it was, out in the open.
Without a word, he lifted her from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his lap. He cradled her close, his thumb gently wiping away the tracks of her tears.
"The conference was important," he admitted softly. "But there was a girl who used to scold me for being 'too old for my age.' She told me I cared too much about work and didn't know how to have fun. At the last moment, as I was heading to the airport, I changed my mind."
Amanda looked at him without blinking; every movement of her lashes sent a fresh tear down her cheek. She reached out, her fingers white-knuckled as she gripped the hem of his shirt.
"Why didn't you tell me it was you who saved me?" she choked out.
Quentin's smile was tinged with a profound sadness. "By the time I woke up, you had already stopped looking for me. Did it even matter?"
Amanda's heart shattered. She knew what he wasn't saying. He had nearly died saving her. When he finally regained consciousness and rushed to find her, he didn't find a grateful girl waiting for her hero. He found her smiling at Javier, her eyes filled with a love that left no room for anyone else—especially not her "Uncle."
She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as she sobbed. "You're an idiot! If I had known it was you... if I had only known, everything would have been different!"
If she had known, she might not have loved him then, but she certainly never would have fallen for Javier. The tragedies of her past life—the betrayal, the cold hospital room, the lonely death—might never have happened.
Panic suddenly seized her. She pushed back, looking directly into Quentin's eyes. "If... I said if... Javier and I had gotten married, and he wanted to fight you for the Harris Group inheritance... would you have given in?"
Quentin looked at her tear-stained face, his heart aching for her. He reached out to caress her cheek, nodding slowly. "If it was for you... yes. I would have."
He had loved her since she was a little girl. He knew love couldn't be forced, and if giving Javier power meant she stayed happy and protected, he was willing to pay that price.
The realization hit Amanda like a physical blow. Quentin, you absolute fool.
In her previous life, the moment she had announced her pregnancy, Quentin had resigned and handed the presidency to Javier without a fight. She had thought Javier had outmaneuvered him. Now she knew the truth: Quentin had surrendered his empire simply because he thought it was what she needed to be happy.
She remembered her days in the hospital in that past life. Every morning, a small bouquet of roses appeared on her nightstand with a card: "Hope you have a happy life." It was the same handwriting. Even then, when she was married to his enemy, he was still watching over her.
"I'm an idiot, I know," Quentin whispered, pulling her back into a tight embrace. "Please, stop crying. Be good for me."
"Don't be like that, Tin!" Amanda cried, shaking her head against his chest. "I'm not as good as you think! Don't give up everything for me. If you have nothing left because of me, what will you do? Javier is evil, he would have destroyed you!"
Quentin's own eyes grew misty as he held her trembling body. "You are everything in my eyes. For you, I don't need power or wealth. I wouldn't complain. Don't blame yourself, Mandy. It was my choice. I was a willing volunteer."
Amanda clung to him, her strength spent. She had once read that someone who truly loves you will pick up every broken piece of your heart and say, 'This piece is mine, and this one is yours.'
Quentin had spent a lifetime doing exactly that—sacrificing in silence, asking for nothing, and now, telling her it wasn't her fault.
"Tin... I'm so sorry," she whispered.
I'm sorry for taking so long to see you. I'm sorry for being so blind that we missed an entire lifetime together. I'm sorry for leaving you alone.
Quentin pulled back slightly, wiping her face one last time. He leaned down, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her lips. "Instead of an apology... will you stay by my side for the rest of your life?"
Amanda bit her lip, forcing back one last sob. She nodded fervently. "I will."
Quentin smiled, a look of pure, soul-deep satisfaction. "Thank you."