Wrong Love, Final Goodbye: She'll Never Look Back

Chapter 421: Chapter 421: Do You Like Tanya That Much?

Vincent Hawthorne was quite satisfied with her tact, nodded slightly to Leah Thorne, then left holding Joy.

Joy lay on Vincent Hawthorne’s shoulder, watching the woman who looked so much like her mother standing there waving at her—she even waved like her mom...

"Daddy." Joy couldn’t help but say, "She looks so much like Mommy."

"Mm." Vincent Hawthorne responded very flatly, "Joy, there are many people in this world who resemble each other. No matter how much she resembles her, she will not be your mommy. Besides, you won’t see her again in the future."

At that time, he took a fancy to Leah Thorne, indulging in a brief romance, indeed because she resembled Tanya Sinclair.

A poor, beautiful, somewhat scheming but savvy and tactful female university student was fresh and easy to control for him, but at most, she was only a diversion for killing time and dispelling loneliness.

He wouldn’t truly let Leah Thorne enter his life.

Now, Declan Pierce is dead.

Tanya Sinclair might accept him again; they were husband and wife for so many years. Even if he couldn’t compete with Declan Pierce, could he really be worse off than Felix Kendall?

"Daddy."

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?"

Joy sniffled a bit, reaching out to hug Vincent Hawthorne’s neck, "When can Mommy leave the hospital and come home? I miss Mommy."

"Soon." Vincent Hawthorne gently patted his daughter’s back, "Mommy will be discharged soon, and maybe not long after, she’ll bring your brother back, to live with us."

"Really?" Joy’s big eyes suddenly lit up.

Vincent Hawthorne chuckled, tweaking his daughter’s nose, "That’s only if Joy is willing to help Daddy."

"Willing, willing, one hundred times willing!"

Looking at Joy’s enthusiastic appearance, Vincent Hawthorne felt his heart soften.

Yes, a pair of lively and lovely children and a perfect wife, these were originally all his.

Previously, he made mistakes, took detours, and failed to realize that the woman he loved most was Tanya Sinclair, but now he knows her value and has learned to cherish it. More importantly, their biggest obstacle—Declan Pierce—is already dead!

Perhaps this is a chance from heaven, prompting him to reclaim Tanya Sinclair!

Vincent Hawthorne had already made up his mind, he placed Joy in the child safety seat, fastened the seatbelt, and sat in the driver’s seat himself.

Before driving, he transferred a hundred thousand dollars to Leah Thorne, along with a message: [You can keep that apartment. In the future, don’t appear in my life again.]

Meanwhile, Leah Thorne sat in the back seat of Jonah Rivers’ car. She received Vincent Hawthorne’s transfer, and upon reading his message, paused slightly. She wanted to respond with something, sending out a message: [Mr. Hawthorne, did I do something wrong?]

However, that message was declined; Vincent Hawthorne had unilaterally deleted her.

Leah Thorne’s gaze turned slightly cold.

Vincent Hawthorne was more generous than she had imagined, and also more ruthless.

Does she love Vincent Hawthorne? Of course, that’s a stretch; he is wealthy, handsome, and generous, liking him is understandable.

But love?

Ha, then she’d rather love herself more.

Vincent Hawthorne, this man, had already been the best stepping stone she could choose! A hundred thousand dollars and an apartment to dismiss her? No way!

Nightfall descended.

Inside the hospital room.

Tanya Sinclair sat by the window, a medical book spread on her lap, yet she hadn’t flipped a single page.

The sky outside had turned completely dark, with a few sporadic lights in the distance, the window not properly closed, swinging wide open in the night breeze. Spring hadn’t arrived yet, and the biting winter wind pierced through her, but Tanya Sinclair seemed oblivious.

Until footsteps slowly approached.

Wesley Yates looked at his daughter’s back and sighed, he picked up a blanket and covered Tanya Sinclair, walked over, and closed the window.

Wesley Yates poured hot tea for Tanya Sinclair, placing it in her icy hands to warm up.

"You and your mom are really alike; when she was young, she was like you, barefoot, sitting on the carpet reading medical books, getting so absorbed, unaware of the cold, catching a cold."

Wesley Yates chuckled, weakly coughing, looking at his daughter with an affectionate gaze, "Tanya, you are the only relic Charlotte left in this world, she left us to keep each other warm."

Tanya Sinclair turned her head slightly, her unfocused gaze slowly fixed on her father’s face.

"Daddy." She spoke, her voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping glass, "How long will it take for me to forget him?"

Wesley Yates gently shook his head, "You’ll never forget him, but you’ll continue living with his share of life. Someday, he won’t be your pain and regret; he’ll be the strength supporting you to live on. Just like, your mom means to me."

Tanya Sinclair slowly rested her head on her father’s lap.

"Daddy, tell me about you and Mommy, I want to listen."

Wesley Yates gently swept Tanya Sinclair’s long hair, with a thin layer of tears in his cloudy eyes.

"The first time I saw your mother was at an academic exchange. She was wearing a white dress, so slender and beautiful, eyes curving as she smiled, like the moon." He paused as if he was seeing that young girl from years ago again, a reminiscing and touching smile pulling at his lips, "At that time, I thought, how could there be such a beautiful girl in this world. I also knew she would definitely be my wife, my lifetime’s love."

"But I never expected, our fate in this lifetime would be so, so shallow..."

Tanya Sinclair’s nose tingled, holding back the tears that almost fell.

She steadied herself, then raised her head, looking at her father’s aged, haggard face, seeing the guilt and longing suppressed for thirty years in his eyes, feeling a sharp pang in her heart.

"Dad." Tanya Sinclair held her father’s hand, softly said, "Mom never blamed you. She just missed you very much."

Wesley Yates was instantly overwhelmed, he held Tanya Sinclair’s hand tightly, yet couldn’t utter a word.

The night outside grew darker.

Tanya Sinclair lay on her father’s lap, falling asleep.

Wesley Yates carried his daughter to the bed, tucked her in warmly.

He watched Tanya Sinclair’s peaceful sleeping face, sighing softly with affection.

Then, he wiped the corners of his eyes, walked outside. Opening the door, unsurprisingly seeing Felix Kendall’s silhouette, standing outside, not knowing how long.

In front of Wesley Yates, Felix Kendall was unusually somewhat reserved.

He slightly bowed his head, calling out, "Uncle Yates."

Wesley Yates looked at him, with eyes observant yet sharp, seeing through him at a glance.

"You really like Tanya." It wasn’t a question but a statement.

"Yes."