Zephyr heard the water running in the bathroom when he arrived home. His heart clenched, but he dared not do anything. He could only stand there quietly.

He remembered what Seth had said. Cordelia’s unusual behavior was called PTSD.

“What she has is considered light,” Seth told him. “The best is to treat it with psychological intervention, but… it’s better for the doer to undo what he’s done. Since the source of the issue lies with you, you’re the best doctor for it.”

Zephyr took a deep breath. He wanted to take on the role of the doctor as well, but Cordelia gave him no chance of approaching her.

The bathroom door opened, and Cordelia walked out wrapped in a towel. When she looked up and met his eyes, she cried in surprise.

“Cordelia—”

Zephyr did not get to say anything before Cordelia hurried into the bedroom and shut the door with a lowered head.

door felt like a barrier separating them

the door to peek at him. She saw him cleaning up in their small living room and collecting

the past, but he did it

her lips

she moved to stay with Xyla. Given what had happened,

was discharged, and with the help of medication, her mental state had been doing

a rare moment when she was conscious and clear-minded. When she heard what her daughter had gone through, she was regretful and sad, so she wholeheartedly

after returning to her mother’s side. It was

herself. Could this one year of wonderful time not really compare to one identity? She knew that what she truly minded was him keeping it from

to meet my son-in-law even once. Am I not meeting

her, suddenly at a loss for

one should follow their heart.” Xyla’s voice was slow and deep. “Status, identity, and wealth are

heart. If you still love him, you should be

Cordelia was hesitant to speak and

no more

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