Fading Love, Fading Hate, A Forever Farewell

Emeric’s disappointment flickered for only a moment before vanishing completely. His gaze softened as he looked at me.

“It’s okay, Flora. As long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter whether we have children or not. If we can’t have a child… then I’ll just spoil you like my own daughter, alright?”

“You must be exhausted. Get some rest. Tomorrow is Mom’s birthday—we’ll need to go back to the family estate.”

With that, he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, adjusted the lights to a soft, warm glow and quietly left the room.

Soon, the soft melody of my favorite music drifted in from the living room.

These little things—small, seemingly insignificant details—Emeric always got them just right, as if he could read my heart.

To go to such lengths for a woman he could never have… carefully indulging another woman he didn’t even love.

I never knew someone could love so deeply, so painfully.

It’s just that the person he loved… was never me.

I glanced at the email inbox on my screen, at the invitation letter from San Mirren University that had arrived two weeks ago.

Without hesitation, I drafted a reply accepting the offer. Then, I booked a flight for three days later.

When it was all done, I let out a quiet breath of relief.

Since that love was never meant for me—then I would simply choose to walk away.

The next morning, when I woke up, Emeric was already gone.

Breakfast was neatly set on the dining table, accompanied by a handwritten note:

[Baby, I’ve gone to the family estate. Make sure to eat. Don’t worry—I’ll stand by you in front of Mom and Dad.]

I glanced around the house, my gaze landing on the most conspicuous spot in the living room.

The cello that had always been there—gone.

Noticing the thick layer of dust that had settled underneath, I turned and grabbed a mop from the washroom to clean it.

The moment the mop touched the floor, I noticed something—one of the tiles was slightly lifted at the edge.

Emeric and I had personally overseen every detail of this house’s renovation. There was no way such a flaw could exist.

Frowning, I crouched down and pried at the loose tile. The moment it came off, I saw it—a small, carefully wrapped voice recorder.

I pressed the play button.

A deep, melancholic cello melody filled the air. And then, over the music, came Emeric’s hoarse, low voice.

[Marie, today is your wedding day… My heart aches. Consider this piece my blessing for you.]

[Marie, she asked me to play for her again today. But I promised you—I would only ever play for you. She doesn’t deserve to listen.]

[Marie, she treats me so well… But I have never once regretted what I did to her. As long as you’re happy, I would do anything.]

At that moment, I finally understood.

No wonder Emeric always found ways to refuse whenever I begged him to play a song for me. The cello in our home—it had never been for me. It had always been for Marie.

And now, he had taken it with him. Most likely, he was bringing it to the family estate… to play a song for Marie, one she loved.

The Jacob brothers—one wore his love openly, the other hid it in silence. But in the end, all of it belonged to Marie.

As I made my way to the family estate, memories of the kidnapping crashed over me like an unrelenting tide.

Three days and three nights of torment at the hands of those men.

By the time I was rescued, my chest was nothing but raw, mangled flesh. The blood that had soaked through my clothes had dried, fusing fabric to skin. When the doctors tore it away, it took my flesh with it.

Even now, just the memory of that pain was enough to send cold sweat trickling down my back.

Everything that happened during those three days had been recorded—spread across Mirrencourt before the night was even over.

To this day, I still wake up gasping from nightmares.