She sat there, arms wrapped tight around her knees, staring blankly at the huge, empty room. She felt small, lost, like she barely belonged in all that space.

Inside the villa, Dylan was crouched on the floor, slowly picking up the shattered pieces of a vase. It was smashed beyond repair-some bits had crumbled to dust, impossible to piece back together.

Just like their relationship, he thought. One ugly truth, and everything would crumble. No matter how hard you tried, you could never make it whole again.

Aiden walked in and froze, taking in the sight of Dylan picking up the sharp, glittering fragments off the floor. He rushed over. "Sir, let me do that."

He knelt beside him, but when he looked up, he saw a fresh line of blood trickling down Dylan's forehead. His eyes widened. "You're hurt!"

Dylan just shook his head. He didn't feel a thing. It was like there was a hole in his chest, cold wind blowing straight through it.

Aiden reached for the first aid kit, then remembered—he'd taken it away a few days ago. "I'll call a doctor."

Dylan clenched a shard in his palm, let out a low, bitter laugh. "Tell me, Aiden, where did I lose?" He couldn't help comparing himself to that shadowy man in her past. What made him come up short? Before, he could accept it—maybe he deserved to lose. But now? Why now?

He couldn't make sense of it.

Aiden caught sight of the blood dripping from Dylan's hand and got anxious. "Sir, your health isn't good. Please, you need to take care of yourself."

Dylan's eyes dropped, lashes low as he finally let the broken pieces fall from his hand.

He looked down at the wilted petals on the floor, regret flickering in his eyes. She'd given them to him-and then torn them apart herself.

In her world, no one mattered but that man from the past. Or maybe, what she wanted one moment meant nothing the next. It was like she could walk away any time, and nothing could hold her back.

pale, then

up. "Sir, please rest.

surface, he seemed calm-but his eyes were edged with something wild, almost feverish. He'd always

found the pills in the nightstand and handed them

as he poured a few pills into

the bed, staring up at the ceiling, voice flat and cold. "I want him gone. Out of our lives. For

"Sir..."

closed his eyes, lips pressed tight with exhaustion.

"We did."

didn't

if Dylan had fallen

dare ask. Instead, he quietly cleared the broken vase

so beautiful once.

slipped out of the room, closing the

*

outside

Vol

She'd

she'd wait until

as the

slip

came and went, and Dylan's car never showed up. It

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255