A Second Chance at Forever ( Eleanor Shultz )

Chapter 1457 

Just earlier, Blake had just returned home. He barely settled on the sofa when, through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he saw Bernard’s car recklessly tearing into the driveway. 

The grand, opulent gates were smashed open, sending the servants scurrying back in fear. Bernard who emerged from the car didn’t even spare them a glance. He strode into the living room, his steps heavy with seething rage. 

“Blake Laurence, you knew that childbirth could kill her, and yet you kept it from me. How she’s caught between a rock and a hard place giving birth could kill her, and not giving birth could kill her. Did you ever consider what I would do if I lost her? Could I even go on living?!” 

Faced with Bernard’s interrogation and fury, Blake remained calm and nonchalant, lifting a teacup from the table. Unfortunately, before it could reach his lips, it was kicked across the room by the irate man standing before him. 

The hot tea spilled over his hand, seeping through his soaked shirt and pants, cooling from scorching to tepid. Only then did Blake slowly lift his chin to meet the angry eyes before him. 

“Someone with your genes is meant to carry on the Laurence family legacy. Yet you insisted on marrying a woman who couldn’t bear children. I sought Mr. Keith’s help to get her pregnant, and now that she can have a child, you blame me for keeping it a secret. I can’t always bend to your wishes, can I?” 

Such selfish words dripped with cold indifference from Blake’s lips. 

Bernard glared at the cold-hearted old man, his anger reaching a boiling point as he suddenly pulled out a small golden pocketknife from his belt. 

It was the first time the old man had seen Bernard this furious, and he held his breath in 

fear. 

“Such a dark aura around you, no wonder it’s come back to haunt Eleanor!” 

At those words, Bernard’s expression tightened, and the knife in his hand shifted direction. As the sharp blade whizzed past his ear towards the sofa, the old man exhaled with relief. His incredulous eyes followed Bernard as he withdrew the knife, expressionless. 

“You would really raise a hand against your own flesh and blood over a woman? What happened to family loyalty?!” 

“She’s dying, and you expect me to care about your damn family loyalty?!”^ 

The household staff knew well that Mr. Laurence never swore. This was a first, indicating 

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just how furious he truly was. But his anger was trivial in Blake’s eyes. After a long silence, the other man steadied his shaken spirits and spoke coldly. 

“Bernard, it was wrong of me to have Mr. Keith hide the risks of childbirth from you, but I’ve already had him prescribe the best medications to help Eleanor’s condition and reduce the danger during delivery. 

It was her own choice to accompany you on your trip, interrupting the course of medication Mr. Keith prescribed. That led to her developing pregnancy-induced hypertension, so you can’t place all the blame on me.” 

The grip on the golden knife handle loosened slightly at Blake’s last sentence. Bernard couldn’t entirely blame Blake, but… 

“If I had known earlier that childbirth posed a threat to her life, I would never have allowed her to get pregnant. I don’t care if it meant ending my lineage; I just want her to be healthy. But you gambled with her life for the sake of your precious genes.” 

Bernard’s eyes, once full of anger, now showed only a bleak despair, “Throughout my life, Donna beat me, and you never stopped her. You just asked her to leave me alive, seeing me as useful. If I hadn’t been, you would have let her kill me… 

At that time, I was grateful to be of use to you, so I could survive. But now, I wish I had been useless, so no one would have bothered about whether my wife could have 

children…” 

The disappointment in Bernard’s eyes was something Blake had never witnessed, akin to accidentally meeting the sincere gaze of a child and being struck by such purity, feeling ashamed amid his own scheming heart, “Bernard, I…” 

“From this point on, our relationship is severed. We are dead to each other.” 

With those final words, Bernard staggered out of the living room. If there was anyone to blame, it was himself. If he hadn’t gone to Area Opaca, Eleanor wouldn’t have interrupted her medication, and the risk wouldn’t have been so great. So it was his fault, all his fault… 

Dazed, Bernard crashed his car into the guardrail at the cliff’s edge. The car didn’t fall, but the front end hung precariously in the air. He struggled out of the vehicle and stood on the cliff, watching as the car plummeted below. 

Echoing in his ears were the words of Dr. Amelia, 10%, 30% – all odds against Eleanor’s survival. Trapped in this situation, Bernard was powerless. He forced himself to stay calm and, like a shrewd businessman, made the stark choice. 

Clutching his fists until his nails cut into his palms, he finally released the tension through the pain. Then he took out his phone and called Dr. Amelia, “If we induce labor at seven months, is there any chance for the child’s survival?” 

Eleanor loved children, and the thought of terminating the pregnancy would be unbearable for her. Now, all he could do was try to save her life and hope that the child, delivered 

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prematurely, would also survive.