Reborn From Oblivion
Chapter 233

Cameron hurried Greta through the parking lot, both of them looking a bit worse for wear.

Once they slipped into the car, Greta, overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions, struggled to catch her breath. She wanted to vent to Cameron, but seeing his stormy expression, she decided against it. Instead, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and tried to relax despite her discomfort. The drive was wrapped in an uneasy silence, a stark contrast to the days when they could talk about anything and everything. Now, after a string of unfortunate events, an unspoken gap had settled between them.

When they arrived at the hospital, Greta's eyes filled with tears. "Cameron, please, I want to go home with you."

Cameron, visibly worn out, responded, "Greta, please don't. You're not well. It's safer for you here, where the doctors can keep an eye on you. It's the only way I can have some peace of mind."

Greta's tears flowed freely as she voiced her despair, "This illness... it feels like a life sentence. When I'm here, I hardly ever see you, and it's so lonely. I might as well be dead."

Cameron sighed, feeling helpless, "I'm swamped with work. Even if you were home, I wouldn't be around much. Please, Greta, just hang in there. Once things calm down, I'll come get you." Reluctantly, Greta nodded in agreement.

After settling Greta in, Cameron returned to their cramped little apartment. The three-bedroom place, only about 120 square meters, felt painfully small to Cameron, who had grown up in a spacious mansion.

He flopped onto the bed, staring at the plain ceiling, a deep sense of helplessness washing over him for the first time.

How did his life end up like this?

Once adored by everyone, he's now left almost completely alone. Was it wrong to love someone so deeply?

Exhausted in every sense, he soon drifted into a restless sleep.

In his dreams he found himself

perched on a high swivel chair,

looking down at petite Nathalie. It was back when she'd first arrived at the Dawson family mansion, her eyes alight with curiosity and hope.

"Nellie, if a friend of yours were seriously ill, would you help her?" He didn't mention Greta or the sacrifices needed to aid her. He hoped Nathalie would be the answer to his problems, but she wasn't.

Without a second thought, Nathalie shook her head. "Cameron, look at me. I've got nothing. How could I possibly help anyone?" Cameron's smile faltered. "But what if she needed something only you could give? Like, say..."

Seeing her resistance, he quickly changed tack: "A blood transfusion?"

Nathalie shook her head again. "I wouldn't."

Cameron was baffled. "Why not?" If she wouldn't even consider a blood transfusion, a kidney donation was out of the question.

Nathalie's voice was tinged with sadness, "I haven't found a friend yet who's worth sharing my blood with."

Cameron's face darkened. Winning Nathalie over wouldn't be a walkin the park. She wasn't willing to donate blood, let alone a kidney. He knew he couldn't push her too hard and risk driving her away.

Patience was key.

Cameron started treating Nathalie with extra cafe, signing her up for art classes since she loved painting. Although he chose a random,

budget friendly school, Nathalie was still touched by the gesture. She found the tuition steep but felt grateful.

In return, Nathalie's gratitude was pure and simple. She threw herself into household chores, cleaning, cooking, and doing everything she could to lighten Cameron's load. One day, she timidly asked the cleaning lady, "Ma'am, how much do you make a month?"