Chapter 3Where Love Runs Out

The next morning was cold, the first real bite of autumn in the air.

When Jackson woke, Freya's side of the bed was already empty.

He fixed himself a quick breakfast and then headed to St. Jude's Hospital.

He walked into the patient room, and the elderly woman lying in bed immediately sat up, her wrinkled face breaking into a joyful smile.

"Jackson... what are you doing here?"

"Director Miller, I came to say goodbye." Jackson handed the old woman an envelope containing the final hundred thousand dollars from his contract payout. "I'm going abroad to study music soon. This is the last of the money for the orphanage."

"Oh, you dear boy... more money?" The director was so moved she began to cry.

She had found Jackson at five years old and raised him in the orphanage. He had earned a scholarship to Juilliard on his own merit and was on the verge of a brilliant career abroad when a sudden illness left her in desperate need of a half-million-dollar surgery.

To repay her kindness, Jackson had sold ten years of his life. The money had paid for her surgery, and the rest had helped rebuild the orphanage. She didn't know how she could ever thank him.

"Please, don't worry about it, Director. Once I finish my studies, money won't be an issue anymore."

"You're right, of course. Going abroad is a wonderful opportunity. I'm so happy for you." Then, a thought struck her. "But if you go overseas, won't it be difficult to see your wife and son?"

"It's better if I don't see them. Less trouble that way," Jackson said with a hollow laugh. "I... I'm divorced."

The director stared at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking his head. "Good," she murmured. "It's for the best. You've suffered enough all these years. From now on, you have to be good to yourself."

"I will be, Director. I promise."

…

After leaving the hospital, Jackson went back to the villa to pack.

He had tied up his last loose end. He could leave the Burrows family with a clear conscience.

It only took a few hours to pack up his life. He also boxed up everything related to Freya and Leo.

The scarf he had knitted to please her, the baby bottles left over from Leo's infancy...

For ten years, he had poured his heart and soul into this family. Even without the contract, he had wanted a warm home to call his own.

But it had all been a fantasy.

Jackson took one last look at the boxes, then carried them out to the trash cans by the gate.

Just then, a Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb.

Leo jumped out of the car first. Seeing Jackson by the trash, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What are you doing, digging through the garbage? Have you no shame?"

"Is dinner ready yet? I want fried chicken!"

Looking at the boy he had raised for six years, Jackson's heart twisted, but the pain was quickly overshadowed by a surge of cold anger.

"If you want fried chicken, go ask your Uncle Sebastian."

"You..." Leo's face was a mask of shock. It was the first time Jackson had ever spoken to him like that.

At that moment, Freya and Sebastian walked up.

"Jackson, Sebastian's house is undergoing some renovations. He'll need to stay with us for a few days. I trust that's not a problem?"

This was the first time Jackson had seen Sebastian up close. He had a naturally refined, almost delicate beauty that years of marriage hadn't touched. It was no wonder Freya was still so captivated by him.

In contrast, Jackson, who had once been just as young and handsome, was now worn down by years of thankless labor.

Leo seized the opportunity. "Hurry up and help Uncle Sebastian with his luggage! Didn't you hear me, you bad daddy? If you don't, I won't like you anymore!"

Jackson looked from Freya to Sebastian. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat. "I just pulled a muscle in my back. I can't lift anything."

At his words, a flash of coldness crossed Sebastian's eyes, but he quickly masked it with a look of pained reluctance. "Oh, then... perhaps we should forget it. It seems Mr. Vance isn't too happy about this. My apologies..."

He turned as if to leave, but Freya grabbed his arm. "Don't be silly. I'll help you with your bags. You're staying here. He won't have a problem with it."

Jackson watched the scene unfold with a quiet, bitter amusement. "That's right," he said. "You can have our room. I won't have a problem with it at all."

What did it matter anymore?

Judging by Freya's attitude, this house would belong to Sebastian soon enough anyway.