He Went to Hell for Me, But I Let Him Go

When Celia saw the items on the floor, her heart skipped a beat.

She had hidden them so carefully—how had Lucas found them?

For a moment, panic flickered across her face. It took her a moment to collect herself before she stammered, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I bought these as a way to honor their memory.”

Hearing her response, Lucas hesitated, the odd tension in his chest easing slightly. After a moment, he said, “I’ll go with you to visit them tomorrow.”

“There’s no need, Uncle,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “You should focus on spending time with Yvonne and handling work. I’ve caused you enough trouble in the past. I won’t be a burden to you anymore.”

Lucas had been prepared for her to accept his offer with gratitude, but her unexpected refusal left him stunned. Shock flickered in his eyes as Celia turned and left without giving him a chance to respond.

Once back in her room, she silently tore another page from the calendar, shredding the piece into tiny fragments and tossing them into the trash.

Only four days left.

As Lucas watched her retreating figure, her words echoed in his mind. Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “You were never a burden to me, Celia.”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and by the time he spoke, Celia was already in her room, unable to hear his words.

On the fourth day of her countdown, Celia visited her parents’ grave alone. She walked to their headstone, gently placing a bouquet of flowers in front of it. Her gaze lingered on their photographs engraved on the stone—familiar, gentle smiles that seemed frozen in time.

Sitting down between the two graves, she let herself imagine she was once again nestled between them, just as she had been as a child.

“Mom, Dad,” she began softly, “I don’t know if you’ve already reincarnated by now. Please don’t be angry at me for being selfish—trading my soul for seven days just to settle things.

“For so long, I envied others for having parents who loved them, but not anymore. I had Uncle Lucas. He cared for me, protected me, and gave me all the love in the world. And I—I fell in love with him, despite everything.

“But now, I see that my existence has only ever been a burden to him. He’ll have a new family someday, and I’ll always be the outsider. From the beginning to the end, I am destined to be alone.

“Life here... it’s not so good. I’ve decided that I won’t come back in my next life. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s a little sad. I never got to experience what it’s like to truly be loved before I died.”

Celia stayed at the cemetery, talking to her parents for a long time. When she finally finished, she didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she found the cemetery’s caretaker.

After some discussion, Celia made arrangements to purchase a burial plot beside her parents’ graves. This way, she thought, when the time came, she’d have a place to belong, one close to them.

After leaving the cemetery, Celia sold off her parents’ inheritance and every gift Lucas had ever given her, converting it all into a significant sum of money.

This money, she decided, would go back to Lucas as repayment for the ten years he had spent raising her.

Celia transferred all the funds into a single bank card and returned to the villa late that evening. Lucas wasn’t home, which worked perfectly for her plan.

Quietly, she slipped into his study, hiding the card in one of the desk drawers. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze fell on the disarray in the room—likely left behind from his rush to finish work.

With a sigh, she decided to tidy up the space. She carefully organized the scattered documents, but as she worked, her hand accidentally tugged open one of the drawers.

She was about to close it again when something inside caught her eye, freezing her in place.

Inside the drawer was a thick stack of letters. Love letters.

Celia’s breath hitched as she stared at them in disbelief. Without thinking, she reached out and picked them up, a mix of curiosity and astonishment flooding her mind.

Could Lucas have written these?

Lucas... writing love letters?

To whom?

Questions swirled chaotically in her head, tangling her thoughts. Lost in her confusion, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

Lucas had returned and now stood at the doorway. His sharp eyes immediately landed on the letters in her hands, and his expression shifted dramatically.

“What are you doing going through my things?” he demanded, his voice cold and laced with a rare tremor of panic.