Chapter 1215

Chapter 1215:

“You know, if there are genuine feelings between you two, perhaps you could be together. Maybe whatever’s keeping you apart has a solution?” Laurinda’s gentle suggestion hung in the air as Evie remained transfixed by the video feed, her silence speaking volumes.

Ten minutes crawled by before Laurinda spoke again.

“Evie, the rain’s getting worse. Are you really going to let him stand out there?”

Conflict flickered across Evie’s features as her hand moved to the ignition. But before she could turn the key, Waylon stirred to life.

She froze, watching as he walked away with purposeful strides. His trench coat, heavy with rain, seemed to weigh on his shoulders, yet each step grew more determined than the last, his back straight with resolution.

The villa that had kept Waylon standing for thirty minutes now witnessed his departure in mere seconds as he strode beyond the camera’s reach, like a ghost fading into memory.

“Will he be alright?” Laurinda ventured softly.

“Should I try talking to him?”

“No need.” Evie’s voice was barely a whisper as she stared at her lap.

“He shouldn’t waste his time on me. Let’s get something to eat.”

Their meal passed in silence, the food turning to ash in their mouths. Finally, Laurinda spoke.

“I bear some responsibility for this. Please reach out if you need anything.”

Drenched to the bone, Waylon didn’t return to the Johns Manor, making his way to another residence in Ansport.

Peeling off his rain-soaked clothes, Waylon stepped directly into the shower’s spray, letting the water cascade over him.

When the last drops fell silent, he wrapped a towel around his waist and confronted his reflection. Dark eyes stared back at him from the mirror, hollow yet piercing, while a sardonic smile played at his lips. With measured steps, he left the steam-filled bathroom.

His fingers found his phone, muscle memory dialing his agent.

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“About your previous offer to work abroad—I’m ready. The sooner I can leave, the better.” His voice carried a finality that brooked no argument.

Later that afternoon at Edge Entertainment, Madisyn sensed an unfamiliar edge to Waylon’s demeanor the moment he walked in.

“Waylon, why are you here? Please, have a seat.”

Madisyn moved to fetch refreshments, but Waylon halted her with a gesture.

“Don’t trouble yourself—I have a flight to catch. Just came to say goodbye.” His words carried a weight she’d never heard before. Concern creased Madisyn’s brow.

“Where are you headed? How long will you be gone?”

“Mila,” he replied, his voice steady.

“As for how long… that remains to be seen.”

Madisyn studied her brother’s resolute expression, recognition dawning that his mind was already made up.

“Then I wish you all the best and hope you achieve your goals!”

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