Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 193

Outside Mr. Nathan Harrington’s hospital room, Darren trudged forward, pushing his IV stand, each step heavier than the last.

He raised a finger to his lips, signaling the bodyguard to keep quiet. The bodyguard didn’t say a word.

Through the closed door, every word of the conversation inside carried with cutting clarity:

“Charlotte, are you… are you really unwilling to give Darren another chance?” Nathan’s voice was full of regret.

Charlotte’s response was sharp and unwavering. “Grandpa, I’m remarried. Giving him another chance would only hurt my husband. That’s absolutely out of the question.”

“You didn’t marry just to spite him, did you?”

“Of course not. Darren is nothing more than an old book I’ve read to pieces. Who would bother getting angry over a tattered old book?”

She paused, her voice cold and distant when it sounded again. “Grandpa, he’s your grandson. I understand why you’d want to speak for him, but my future has nothing to do with him anymore. Not even a little.”

“I’ve finally found the life I truly want. My only regret is not leaving Darren sooner.”

Her words, calm as they were, hit Darren standing outside the door like thunderbolts—each syllable splintering something inside him.

An old, broken book? Her future had nothing to do with him?

He clutched his chest as if some invisible force was tearing it open, his injuries aching anew. The last traces of color drained from his face, leaving him ashen and hollow-eyed.

Inside the room, Mr. Harrington gave a long, weary sigh. “Darren really did miss out on a wonderful girl. Now that you’ve found happiness, I can finally be at peace, too.”

“Thank you, Grandpa, for caring,” Charlotte replied quietly.

“And what about what I mentioned before—adopting you as my granddaughter?”

Charlotte shook her head, her tone respectful yet resolute. “I respect you, Grandpa. But if I were to become Darren’s adoptive sister, I’d never be able to eat in peace again.”

Every sentence radiated a deep, unyielding rejection of Darren.

Her gentle, delicate features were now set in a composure so distant, so cold, that it left him desperate, screaming inside: Charlotte, why are you pretending I don’t exist? Just look at me—just once! Please, I’m begging you. Look at me!

But no matter how loudly he pleaded, she never glanced his way. Her eyes never wavered.

Darren’s hand shook uncontrollably around the IV pole.

Mr. Harrington’s gaze shifted to Bradley, sharp and assessing, laced with nostalgia. “So you’re Bradley, CEO of N-LINK? How’s your grandfather, Michell Fairchild, doing these days?”

Bradley answered with quiet assurance. “He’s been enjoying retirement, traveling and painting. He’s in good health, thank you for asking.”

Mr. Harrington chuckled softly. “Your grandfather and I were comrades, back in the day. I haven’t seen the old fox in years, and here I am meeting his grandson first. Still…”

His keen eyes lingered on Bradley’s face, his smile fading to something more wistful. “You look only a little like he did in his youth. But your eyes…”

At that, Mr. Harrington’s voice abruptly trailed off.