"When you were little, you suffered so much. I've always blamed myself. If only I hadn't been so emotionally unstable while I was pregnant with you, maybe you wouldn't have gotten sick… maybe you could've had the joyful childhood you deserved."
She had always carried that regret. When she left Reynolds, she felt both disappointment and pain. Disappointment that their love had crumbled so easily, and pain that it had all ended so quickly. For a long time after, she couldn't pull herself together emotionally.
If it had just been her dealing with the aftermath, that would've been one thing—but she had little Laila in her belly. When the doctors found something growing in little Laila's brain, Janet had nearly collapsed. If only she had remained calm during her pregnancy… maybe Laila would have had a healthy body, a normal childhood.
Tears streamed down Janet's face faster than Laila could wipe them away. She could tell her mother was truly heartbroken.
Little Laila had always been in poor health and spent most of her childhood confined to hospitals, surrounded only by doctors, nurses, and family. She had undoubtedly suffered immensely—constant injections, medications, endless tests, and surgeries.
And yet she had remained cheerful, never losing her will to live despite her circumstances. Just look at the journal she left behind, full of dreams and goals she wanted to pursue once she got better.
Laila didn't know for sure whether little Laila's illness was truly caused by Janet's emotional instability during pregnancy—but there was one thing she knew without a doubt:
Little Laila had never once blamed her.
"Mom," she gently pulled Janet into an embrace, softly patting her back, "Laila always loved you. She loved you back then, she loves you now, and she always will. Just look at me now—I'm healthy, aren't I?" The words that little Laila couldn't say herself… let her say them for her.
"Laila, my sweet Laila!" Janet's tears fell even faster, soaking Laila's shoulder in just a few breaths. "You're the greatest gift heaven ever gave me. I just hate myself… for ever meeting Reynolds, for letting you bear the punishment of my reckless choices when I was young."
Laila chuckled, "Mom, if you hadn't met him, then I probably wouldn't even exist. A different man wouldn't have created me, right?"
Janet was stunned for a second, but then snapped back in her usual way. "Well, that just means I've got amazing genes—look how incredible you turned out!"
"Of course, of course," Laila laughed. What else could she say? One minute, her mom was crying from guilt, and the next, she was proudly showing off.
As for Reynolds, that so-called "biological father," Laila had no real feelings about him. To her, he was just a name—barely mentioned since the moment she became Laila. It wasn't until she inherited his estate that his name and face finally found a place in her memory.
He hadn't fulfilled the responsibilities of a father, and he had hurt the already-vulnerable Janet. If there was hatred to be had, perhaps the original Laila might've hated him.
But the current Laila?
She actually felt grateful.
Because he'd left her a film company—one that gave her full distribution rights. So what if it was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy? So what if all the capable employees had already left, and the ones remaining were either too loyal to abandon ship or too incompetent to escape?
Without that company, who knows how long it would've taken her to pursue her dreams? Sure, the Moran family could've bought her a studio to play around with, but that wouldn't have fired her up the way Reynolds' company did.
"Mom, I'm really happy to be your daughter." And she meant it from the bottom of her heart.
Back in the East, she'd never had a great relationship with her family. Maybe it was just her personality—like there was always a wall between them, something that stopped her from ever getting truly close.
But Janet was different.
She genuinely loved her daughter—loved the bedridden little Laila with all her heart. When Laila first arrived in this world, love was the first thing she felt.
Don't forget, she had crossed into this world at the moment little Laila had just finished surgery. She couldn't move, couldn't eat on her own, couldn't even use the bathroom without help. That powerlessness, combined with the fear of the unknown future, nearly shattered her mentally.
Think about it—suddenly waking up in a completely unfamiliar world, trapped in a broken body. How many people could remain calm and optimistic?
It was only Janet, staying by her side day and night, who gave her the will to live.
"You're the reason I had the strength to keep going." Janet's eyes were swollen from crying.
She had always acted carefree, not wanting Reynolds to be remembered as a stain in her past. Even in front of her father, she had insisted she'd let go of that love.
But how could such a deep, all-consuming love be cast aside so easily? Back then, she and Reynolds had been so close that she almost broke ties with her own father over him.
If it weren't for Laila, she might have truly spiraled into despair.
Thankfully, a mother's love makes her strong. The moment she found out she was pregnant, she rekindled her will to live. But the emotional pain she had suffered before that might very well have left its mark on her child. Little Laila's brain tumor might have been a coincidence—but her overall frailty likely had something to do with Janet's fragile emotional state during the pregnancy.
Laila comforted her mother for a long time before Janet finally stopped crying.
"Let's get some cold compress on your eyes." Laila fetched some ice and gently pressed it against Janet's swollen eyelids. "You're going to my wedding tomorrow—do you really want to show up looking like you've been punched in both eyes?"
Janet immediately slapped the ice bag onto her face. If she really showed up to her daughter's wedding looking like this, she might as well die from embarrassment. No way was she going to let anyone see her in such a mess!
Lying in bed, she held the ice to her eyes with one hand and clutched Laila's hand with the other. "Laila, you must be happier than I ever was, understand?"
"Don't worry, Mom. I will be happy," Laila said firmly, tightening her grip in reassurance.
Janet believed her. More than that, she believed in her daughter's judgment. "You're a smart girl. Honestly, it's always felt like such a pity that I didn't inherit my father's wisdom. Roy's a good man—and more importantly, the love he gives you is pure and unconditional. When it comes to choosing a man, I've got to admit… you've got better instincts than I ever did."
Laila laughed and gently patted her mother's hand. "Mom, I don't think that's fair to say. Your judgment is just as good. Don't forget how much Mr. Quentin loves you."