A Second Chance at Forever

Chapter 1448
Zephyr’s smile held a hint of transcendence, a serene detachment that couldn’t help but influence Eleanor and even Bernard,
who felt his eager anticipation to meet Caleb settle into a calm stillness.
Bernard, who usually never drank anything outside his home, took the colorful
stained-glass tumbler in his hand and brought it to his lips. The sip was delicate and the fragrance of the tea infusion quickly
spread through his senses, revealing an unexpected charm.
He was silent for a moment before looking up at Zephyr, “You do look like him, but you are not him.”
The words, ‘but you are not him,’ indicated that in Bernard’s heart, no one could replace Caleb. Caleb was irreplaceable, unique,
and even if someone bore a striking resemblance, they could never truly be him.
For Zephyr, Bernard’s distinction was a comfort, “The fact that you can tell us apart shows how much Caleb also meant to you.
Such mutual care and friendship is truly priceless.”
Bernard’s eyes fell, hiding the shade of melancholy, “I did wish you were him for a moment, but seeing you, I knew it was just a
fantasy.”
Zephyr, observing the man suffused with regret, offered some consolation, “If you don’t mind, you can think of me as him. I am
willing to take his place and serve you as he would have, sir.”
It seemed only fair to Zephyr, who had enjoyed the family’s fortunes while his brother had walked towards death in the storm, to
make some amends for the imbalance of their fates.
The term ‘sir,’ falling on Bernard’s ears, was as if Caleb had returned to him.
The hardships of the journey were akin to crossing the mythical River Styx, and Bernard’s heart ached at the thought.
Staring at Zephyr’s face, Bernard softly asked, “What did you just call me?”
Zephyr set down his teacup, turned his face slightly, and with a teasing arch of his eyebrow, said, “Sir.”
He remembered Robin telling him Caleb liked to refer to the head of the Laurence Group as Mr. Law.

Bernard hesitated for a moment, as if he could see Caleb through Zephyr’s features.
Back then, after firing his last shot, Caleb would sling the rifle over his shoulder, raise an eyebrow, and tilt his chin up at Bernard.
“Sir, I was the first to finish the shooting drill today. Don’t you think I deserve a little bonus?”
“Hit thirty more targets, and I’ll give you ten grand.”
“Only ten grand? You’re such a cheapskate.”
“Are you going to shoot or not?”
“Of course, I will. Ten grand is still money!”
That carefree and willful young man would then shoulder his rifle and keep shooting for that hundred thousand dollars.
Sometimes, Bernard wondered if Caleb would still be alive if he had not followed him into that dangerous life.
He looked at Zephyr, lost in thought, but Zephyr pulled him back from his painful memories, “Mr. Law, the past is gone. Let it go.
The person before him spoke with the wisdom of a sage, with a touch of the spiritual, and Bernard, watching this new version of
Caleb, slowly gathered his thoughts, took another sip of his tea, and found himself at a loss for words.
They sat in silence for a while until Zephyr turned to Eleanor, “Miss, I’ve noticed you seem to have something on your mind. Is
there something you’d like to say to me?”
Eleanor didn’t actually have anything particular to say; she was just moved by his face that so resembled Caleb’s. But since
Zephyr asked, she ventured, “Would you like to try some of my husband’s cooking?”
After the question escaped her lips, she regretted it, realizing it was unfair to seek Caleb’s shadow in Zephyr. Yet Zephyr simply
smiled, “I suspect your husband’s cooking isn’t the best?”
His tone was different from Caleb’s, but his assumption about Bernard’s culinary skills was the same. Eleanor found herself
unexpectedly feeling a connection; it was no wonder Katharine had made the mistake.
Zephyr’s playful jab, ‘isn’t the best,’ made Eleanor feel an affinity with him, similar to how she felt with Caleb. She relaxed and
laughed, “It’s downright dreadful.”

Zephyr’s gaze shifted to Bernard, dressed impeccably in his suit, and couldn’t help but tease, “Now, I’m quite curious to see just
how dreadful Mr. Law’s cooking can be.”
The mention of ‘Mr. Law’ prompted Bernard to drop his guard, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humor, “If you don’t mind, I’d like
to borrow your kitchen.”
Zephyr agreed, and they headed to the kitchen. Watching Bernard mix up the salt and sugar, Zephyr Bernard led, “I never
thought someone of your stature would actually cook for Caleb.”
Holding the saltshaker, Bernard poured several spoonful into the pot, mistaking it for sugar, and replied, “I regret that the last
dinner I had with him wasn’t made by me.”
He was merely crashing a meal, after all.
Remembering Caleb sitting at the dinner table on the deck, forced to eat everything despite its awful taste, preferring to jump into
the sea rather than endure another bite, Bernard couldn’t help but smile.
Sadly, that version of Caleb would never return.
Looking at Bernard’s wistful profile, Zephyr spoke with warmth, “The meals you prepare with your own hands, I’ll eat them for
him.”
Bernard was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly, and continued to sprinkle ‘sugar’ into the pot with a renewed vigor.