Ethan Grant reached out to Wyatt Jacobs, "Let me see it." Wyatt Jacobs handed over his phone. Holding the phone, Ethan Grant watched the birthday video repeatedly, tears streaming uncontrollably. Marcus Grant’s face was ashen, "Seeing you makes me furious!" Eleanor Madison pulled him back, "Our son is already , and you’re adding fuel to the fire, seriously? What do you mean ’useless’? Wasn’t it our son who secured the company’s investment? What nonsense are you talking about! Without Ethan, our company would have been bankrupt already!" Marcus Grant held his tongue, but not before casting a deep look at Ethan Grant before turning away. Vivian Coleman watched Ethan Grant stare at the video of Talia Rhodes obsessively, unable to stay any longer, she turned and left as well. "Son, forget about that woman. Mom will introduce you to someone better," Eleanor Madison said, wiping her tears, her voice choked with emotion. Aaron Lynch sighed, "Ethan, as the saying goes, there are plenty of fish in the sea. Why hang yourself on one tree? Whatever kind of woman you like, I can find her for you." Ethan Grant gazed blankly at the video, saying nothing. Wyatt Jacobs shook his head helplessly, "Forget it, let’s leave him to some peace and quiet." "No way!" Eleanor Madison declared, "I wouldn’t dare let him be alone; what if he tries to kill himself again?" Luna Willow’s bone marrow transplant was very successful, with no signs of rejection, and her life was finally saved, allowing Talia to focus on other matters. These days, she’s been busy preparing briefs and attending court hearings. Talia knew that Ethan Grant had gone to the extent of attempting suicide and didn’t dare to stay at the apartment in Brighton Court anymore. Adrian Jennings had purchased a new villa for her, about six or seven kilometers from the law firm, not too far, conveniently drivable to work. On this Saturday, Talia hired a cleaning lady to pack her belongings and also called for a moving company. As the last suitcase was being moved out, Ethan Grant happened to step out of the elevator. The man’s face was pale, his eyes sunken, dark circles faintly outlined beneath them, his entire being looked exhausted and noticeably thinner. Ethan Grant stopped in his tracks as he saw the movers carrying out the luggage, his melancholic gaze turning towards Talia. Talia merely nodded without saying anything; she stepped into the elevator. As she brushed past Ethan Grant, her wrist was suddenly gripped by him. "Talia, don’t go," Ethan Grant’s tone carried a plea, his eyes a mosaic of emotions, "I promise I won’t bother you anymore, please don’t move. I just want to stay close to you, quietly by your side." Talia lowered her gaze onto Ethan Grant’s hand, her tone cold, "Let go!" Ethan Grant did not release his grip. Talia struggled to free herself. Ethan Grant tightened his hold. "Ethan Grant, you’re hurting me!" Talia exclaimed, frowning, and Ethan Grant released her as if he’d been shocked. Guilt flashed across Ethan Grant’s eyes, "I’m sorry, Talia, I didn’t mean to, I just... I just don’t want you to leave." Talia rubbed her wrist, which had reddened from the grip, and said flatly, "I’ve made myself very clear. You and I can never go back to how things were, nor start over; there’s no need for you to do things that only move yourself." Talia took two steps forward, then as if remembering something, she turned back to meet Ethan Grant’s eyes, earnestly saying, "I heard you tried to kill yourself recently. Ethan Grant, if you are this extreme, I will only feel relieved for leaving you, rather than believing your love for me is such that you can’t live without me." Talia continued slowly, "In the future, don’t ever consider suicide again. I don’t want a love affair that burdens me with a life on my conscience." Finishing her words, Talia entered the elevator alongside the movers. Ethan Grant stood in place, savoring Talia’s parting words. She said, never to consider suicide again. Doesn’t that mean she still cares about him, after all? She cares about whether he lives or dies, doesn’t want him to squander his life . Realizing this, Ethan Grant’s eyes reddened. He knew it, Talia was not so heartless. There was still hope for him. Adrian Jennings had bought Talia a seaside villa, covering an area of over six hundred square meters, complete with a spacious swimming pool and a backyard garden. Sitting on the swing in the garden, one could see the vast expanse of blue ocean. The villa was fully furnished, with decor reflective of her taste, which showed Adrian’s thoughtfulness. Talia directed the movers to properly place the relocated luggage. The furniture and appliances from the apartment were left behind; she only brought along her personal belongings. After everything was settled, Talia took a bath and comfortably slept a long while on the soft, plush bed. Wyatt Jacobs believed there was something wrong with Ethan Grant’s mind. He kept deceiving himself, insisting Talia still loved him. Whenever Wyatt Jacobs visited Ethan Grant, he often heard him talking to himself, and upon listening closely, it became apparent he was conversing with Talia Rhodes. The crux was that this "Talia Rhodes" was but a figment of Ethan Grant’s imagination. Wyatt Jacobs patted Ethan Grant’s shoulder, "Buddy, you’re scaring me." But Ethan Grant turned a deaf ear, continuing his solo chat with "Talia Rhodes," seemingly even happy doing so. During meals, he would bizarrely set an extra place, claiming it was for Talia to eat. Wyatt Jacobs earnestly persuaded Ethan Grant to see a psychologist. Ethan Grant stubbornly refused, insisting there was nothing wrong with him. Google seaʀᴄh novel·fire.net In the end, Wyatt Jacobs and Aaron Lynch had to forcibly take Ethan Grant to the hospital. The psychologist, a woman in her thirties named Anna Hollis, had a neatly trimmed short haircut, exuding an aura of intelligence and elegance. On a weekday afternoon, after the lunch break, Anna Hollis reported for duty at the hospital as scheduled. She had barely settled down in her office when Ethan Grant was forcibly brought in. Being a seasoned psychologist in Oakhaven, Anna Hollis had encountered various patients over the years, and honestly, patients like Ethan Grant were a rarity in her experience. This Mr. Grant, so young and handsome, seemingly affluent, by societal standards, the wealthier one is, the less likely they are troubled by love, because the richer someone is, the easier love comes to them. In a jest-filled internet jest, "Young and skilled, driving a Bentley, treating love like a game." For someone in Ethan Grant’s social echelon, love often seems inconsequential, as they generally focus more on fame, status, power, and wealth. The resistance Mr. Grant exhibited towards receiving therapy was extremely intense. "What are you doing? I’m not sick! Let me go, I want to go back!" Ethan Grant shouted. Anna Hollis felt a headache coming on. She realized the gravity of the situation. This Mr. Grant was not only sick, but quite severely so. Anna Hollis quickly got into her professional mode, attempting communication with Ethan Grant. The irate Ethan Grant gradually calmed down, beginning to follow the psychologist’s lead. Anna Hollis informed Ethan Grant that his current mental state was very dangerous. In his current condition, he was at high risk of engaging in extreme actions. Ethan Grant let out a bitter smile, "To be frank, I’ve already done so." Ethan Grant murmured, "A few days ago, I attempted suicide, but unfortunately, I didn’t succeed." As he spoke, Ethan Grant rolled up his sleeve, displaying the ghastly scar on his left wrist to the psychologist, "This scar is a testament to my love for her."