CHAPTER 911: CHAPTER 911: HE SOFTENED THE YEARS FOR HER (PART 2)

Yet the Crown Prince of the Crawford family remains so low-key, never accepting any interviews nor making public appearances. He has become a presence that no magazine can capture, shrouded in mystery.

He has already wielded immense power over the entire City of Aethelgard, becoming the unmatched titan of business.

He is still young, too young, at the mere age of 27.

A man like him is destined to nightly enter the dreams of countless socialites, with some women who consider themselves strikingly beautiful trying every possible way to catch his attention, but none succeed.

The only chance people have to see him is through Isabelle Willow, the young lady of the Crawford family.

Every occasion where Isabelle Willow appears, his silhouette can be found as well.

Just like tonight’s Charity Night, his luxury car was waiting outside early on, his gaze and heart filled with her icy elegance.

He accompanies her step by step in her growth, watching her enter into glory, radiating brilliance.

How much jealousy does such a grand love invoke in other women?

On one hand, these women frenziedly chase the new season releases from Queen; on the other, they spitefully gossip at socialite gatherings, wondering when Isabelle Willow will fall out of favor.

After all, how could a 27-year-old business giant love one woman for a lifetime?

But as the years passed, each spring turning to autumn, Isabelle Willow’s favor remained undiminished.

The world saw her as fresh and radiant as years ago, pure and lovely, with her time seemingly halted at that year’s temple. The man named Jude Crawford cherished her all his life, loved her all his life.

Jude Crawford dazzled time itself, but for her, he tenderly softened the years.

...

One winter.

Isabelle Willow’s eyes were covered by a large hand, as the man behind hugged her and led her to a place.

"Jude, where are you taking me?" Her voice was soft and sweet, sugary sweet.

Jude Crawford released her eyes, a smile curved on his lips, "Our home."

Isabelle Willow lifted her gaze, and then her pupils abruptly contracted, one second, two seconds, three seconds... she was mesmerized.

What did she see?

In this life, she dreamed of returning to the splendor and entered Jill’s house once more.

In this lifetime, her marriage with him came earlier, Jude Crawford did not build the towering Jill’s house for her, nor shower her with regal affection as in the past life.

Now, Jill’s house has arrived.

Isabelle Willow lifted her little head, almost devoutly gazing upwards, those are the memories of her past life, all the sweetness.

She gently reached out her hand, feeling the colorful sunlight fall into her small hand, so soft and warm.

He said, this is our home.

Jude Crawford stretched out his strong arms and tightly embraced her from behind, turning his face to kiss her little cheek, his voice deep and magnetic, "Do you like it? It took two years here, every grass, every object, fashioned just the way you love it."

Isabelle Willow’s eyes reddened, she liked it, how could she not?

She turned around, her small hands hugging his neck, "Mmm, I like it."

Jude Crawford’s flexible thin lips touched her flushed eyes and kissed them softly, "Yara, do you love me?"

He softly asked Yara, do you love me?

Isabelle Willow lifted her small head, surprised as she looked at him, "Jude, why do you ask that? I love you~"

But why did he feel her love was so unreal?

Two years, he’s never forgotten the man on that drawing paper.

That drawing.

That aged and profound man, looking exactly like him.

Who is he?

For two years, that drawing paper has pierced his heart like a curse, constantly reminding him.

Sometimes he wanted to outright ask her, but when the words reached his mouth, he swallowed them back.

He’s afraid asking would mean there couldn’t be a future.

Loving her, he dared not take even a tiny risk.

Even if she truly had another man hidden in her heart, he was willing to live like this.

Love makes one humble.

He is truly happy now, truly happy.

"Who do you love? Call my name."

"I love you, Jude Crawford!"

Jude Crawford lifted Isabelle Willow horizontally.

"Jude, where are you taking me?"

"I bought a big bed, not sure if you’ll like it, but we’re going now... to roll on it."

"..." Isabelle Willow’s face turned bright red, the young Jude Crawford was bursting with energy, like a little wolfdog.

At this moment, Isabelle Willow suddenly felt a wave of nausea, her small hand pressed against her chest, feeling an urge to vomit.

"What’s wrong?" Jude Crawford halted instantly, asking anxiously.

Isabelle Willow remembered something, "Jude, I think... I haven’t had my little days for two months..."

Isabelle Willow was pregnant!

Jude Crawford called many doctors to diagnose Isabelle Willow, she was truly pregnant!

Their first child was coming.

She was going to be a mommy.

He was going to be a daddy.

...

In the blink of an eye, Isabelle Willow was ten months pregnant, yet the due date arrived and there was no movement from the child in her womb.

Isabelle Willow was anxious at heart, dreaming at night.

Dreaming back to the previous life.

Yara.

Yara.

Yara.

He searched the world barefoot for her, walking a path lined with blood.

She walked towards him, he hugged her tightly, his eyes warm with tears, he cried.

Pain.

His entire body was in pain.

Someone was shaking her, a low and magnetic voice rang beside her ear, "Yara! Yara, wake up!"

Isabelle Willow suddenly opened her eyes.

Jude Crawford’s handsome face magnified within her vision, looking at her with concern and worry.

Isabelle Willow stared in a daze, because her vision was blurred.

She slowly lifted her head, feeling her hand wet with tears.

She was crying.

"Yara, what’s wrong?" Jude Crawford reached out and enveloped her in his arms, perhaps out of fear, his strong arms tightened, the force nearly wishing he could meld her into his blood and bones.

Isabelle Willow gently reached out her small hand to embrace him, "Jude, I had a nightmare."

"What kind of nightmare?"

"I dreamt of... our previous life."

Jude Crawford stiffened.

"Jude, in our previous life we married too, everything was fine, that night you stood alone under the palace lantern, wearing a gray thin sweater, I fell asleep in your arms, but when I opened my eyes the next day, you were gone."

Gray thin sweater...

Jude Crawford was fiercely shaken, as he recalled the drawing paper, the man in the drawing was wearing a gray thin sweater.

The pain in Isabelle Willow’s heart grew larger, she held her head in her small hands, sobbing uncontrollably, "Jude, do you believe in past lives and this life? We actually have past lives, in our past lives we encountered the most beautiful meeting, but later on, all that beauty turned into regret and lost chances."

"In this life, my heart still aches faintly, time slipping away like sand through fingers, I don’t know where it’s gone, our time is always consumed by separation, we never grew up with our children, we never kept watch over the beautiful years together, until you were leaving, I was the last one to know."