Chapter 412

On the night boat,

Music drifted through the air-soft, haunting, full of hidden longing and desire. In the dim, shadowy cabin, a man and a woman faced each other: she stood, cool and aloof; he sat, silent, head bowed.

They stayed locked in that uneasy stillness for a long moment.

Then Lysander suddenly gave a low laugh. He slowly lifted his head, and the lamplight caught the raw redness in his eyes. His gaze burned with a desperate restraint. Mila's icy detachment seemed unbearable to him, tearing open something deep inside, exposing the raw, fragile flesh beneath his hardened shell.

The sensation of being so vulnerable, so exposed, filled him with shame-a darkness washed over his face.

He stood up and took a hesitant step toward Mila.

Then he stopped.

Her voice broke the silence, low and hard to read, as if stating a fact: "Lysander, you love me." A few seconds passed before she repeated herself, this time with a hint of confusion-almost a question: "You love me?"

He looked down, his expression unreadable.

"You actually love me?"

It was almost a joke—a stray, curious provocation that, against all odds, seemed

to have landed on the truth. A complex surge of emotion left her wanting to laugh, but the sound refused to come. All she felt was bitter irony.

He loved her?

What a joke.

An absolutely ridiculous joke.

laughing, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was silence. Her lips moved, parted, closed again, and finally she

finish, his hand closed around her

He was smiling, but his voice was dark and low, trembling with pain and finality. "Mila,

grip, Mila

clutched his hand at her neck, feeling the way his fingers shook. For a moment, she tried to pry them away, gasping

sudden clarity, she said, "I hate

the redness in his eyes deepened he stared at her, jaw clenched, voice barely above a whisper, wild and broken: "I don't love you, Mila. I don't love you. I never have,

words, desperate, as if saying them could numb the pain squeezing

more

more his wavering voice cracked, choked with

this cruel to

wouldn't love

drowned out

Her grip on his hand weakened, slipping

Madman.

her as she crumpled to the floor, frantically pressing his ear to

coughed, violent

a moment, Mila caught her breath. Still clutching his hand, she met his desperate, averted gaze and managed a

"I believe you."

"I believe you now. You don't love me. You never will. I believe

really

as blows, "If you truly loved me, Lysander, I think I'd be sick to my stomach. That

of pain,

"This is better."

us but hatred. Forever. Nothing else, ever again."

bodies were close, but he felt only cold, as if he'd fallen into a frozen

from his hand and shattered on the

...

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