Twisted Ties of Love

Upon hearing that Casey was out of danger, Beck breathed a sigh of relief and turned his full attention to his wife. He held her close, gently patting her shoulder and stroking her hair, whispering in soothing tones, "It's okay now, there's no need to be afraid."

Bunny responded with a quiet hum and was led to the ICU.

Izabella watched the Dempseys retreating figures, her forward momentum halting abruptly. Presley eyed her stillness and nonchalantly asked, "Aren't you going in to see him?"

Instead of responding, Izabella turned to meet his gaze and uttered, "Presley, thank you."

Presley paused for a moment, a wry smile crossing his face. "You remind me so much of a friend of mine. Same name, same face. But she wasn't as lucky as you. She was diagnosed with stomach cancer at your age. Daily medications, an abusive husband, and finally killed in a fire. I never got to see her one last time."

The memory was old, but the pain was still fresh. Tears threatened to spill from Presley's eyes, already red from fatigue, making his face look even paler.

Izabella moistened her lips, holding back her thoughts. To her, the past was dead and buried; to Presley, his Izabella had found her peace in the flames. Now, they both had new lives.

"Izabella," Presley called out, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He was looking at her retreating figure and couldn't help but feel a pang of pain - she looked so much like his friend. His voice was choked with emotion as he blurted out, "Izabella, would you like to come home?"

Deep down, he already knew the answer.

Izabella's lips trembled, her breath hitching. She remembered, years ago, Mr. Felton standing behind her, asking the same question - "Izabella, would you like to come home?" But at that time, she had no home to return to.

Turning to look at Presley, her eyes sparkled with regained vitality. Her voice, hoarse from crying, was thick with emotions as she gently shook her head, "I've found a new home. I won't be going back." Without daring to look at Presley's expression, she turned and slowly made her way to the ICU.

Inside, Casey lay still and quiet, his skin so pale that the veins beneath stood out starkly. The harsh light of the ICU room made everything in it look incredibly clear, even the faint bluish hue of his dry, cracked lips.

Izabella had never seen him so vulnerable, so close to death's door. Perhaps Casey had already stepped through it, but his love for her had pulled him back.

Bunny watched her son with a pained expression, turning to Izabella, she said, "Izabella, you haven't rested in days. You should get some sleep. We'll hire a nurse to look after Casey."

But Izabella shook her head, "I'm not tired." It wasn't that she didn't want to rest, but that she couldn't - her nerves were too on edge.

"Mrs. Bunny, you and Uncle should go rest. I'll watch over him here."

Wendy chimed in, "I haven't showered in days, now that Casey's okay, I'll go home and freshen up. Izabella, please call us if anything happens. We'll be back tomorrow."

With a nod, Izabella stood at the door of the ICU, watching them until they disappeared into the elevator. She then turned back to Casey, moistening his lips with a cotton swab soaked in water. "You're so silly," she murmured, "I was going to come back to you after accepting our award. Why did you have to go looking for me? You big dummy."

Izabella recalled the time when Nathaniel shot Casey in the chest. He had fallen then, just as he was now, lifeless and pale.

Casey was her moonlight, her lifelong yearning. During those long years, there were times she almost gave up, but the memory of him carrying her home pulled her through.

During the times when she was scolded by her father and brother, she would recall.

When her grandfather died and the burden of the Salotti family fell on her shoulders, she would recall.

When she was scrutinized by the shareholders and the rival families, she would recall.

Whenever Brett treated her with indifference or slapped her out of domestic violence, she would retreat into her past memories.

It was not until she was diagnosed

with stomach cancer and lacked the strength to reminisce, she wondered if the boy who had carried her home and shared his candy apple with her when she was seven or eight years old was just a figment of her imagination?

He had clearly promised that he would come to find her when they grew up, so why didn't he recognize her when they met again?

She had brought up these memories to Brett when she had mistaken him for the boy from her past. Brett had called her delirious and accused her of having a delusional disorder. Alone in the quiet hospital room, where the only sound was the drip of the IV, her mind would inevitably drift back to her past.

She would remember years of joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain.

By the time she realized that marrying Brett was a mistake, it was too late. Casey had fallen to the ground, blood staining his chest. He didn't have time to say much to her.

All he managed to say was, "Cry Baby, I can't carry you home this time." Even in the face of death, his first thought was to carry Izabella home.

She wondered why Brett had hypnotized and brainwashed her. If she remembered everything, she would have chosen to die with Casey.

Brett knew this, so he erased "Ryker" from her memory.

In another hospital room, the television was connected to the internet, repeatedly playing a live broadcast of Izabella from seven hours ago.

In the broadcast, Izabella was

standing on stage, announcing her

retirement from the entertainment

industry. She was proving, in her

own way, that no one could obstruct her feelings for Casey.

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harsh questions from the press and

online users, blaming her for Casey's fate, she showed no signs of

weakness or retreat.

Brett had once complimented Izabella's eyes, but at some point, they had lost their sparkle. Now, despite her fatigue, her eyes were shining with hope - a hope not ignited by Brett, but by another man. When Casey appeared, she lifted her dress and ran through the crowd, throwing herself into his arms without hesitation.

Brett couldn't express the depth of

his pain. All he knew was that he was hurting, a kind of invisible pain that felt like needles piercing his entire e body. He wanted to pull them out, but he couldn't even see where they had entered. He was powerless and in agony.

He understood that a cup of hot water did not suddenly turn cold.

Seeing the two of them embrace on the screen, Casey's public proclamation of Izabella as his "fiancée" shattered all of Brett's emotional defenses.

He had lost before he had a chance to prove himself, but he couldn't accept it, he really couldn't.

He felt as though he had lost Izabella a thousand times over before he even had the chance to truly have her. Whether he loved her or let her go, his heart was filled with regret.