The Seven Years of Secret Relationship Was Turned To Ashes

Albion's POV

Stephanie leaned closer with a sly grin. “Albion, do you think there’s a chance those two will get back together?”

Her voice was just loud enough for Serena to hear.

As expected, Serena’s head shot up. When she noticed me standing not far away, a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes. She quickly explained, “I’m not thinking about getting back together with him. He’s just drunk, so I’m helping him out.”

I gave her a calm smile and shook my head. “I understand, Serena. Cyril seems pretty out of it—why don’t you take him home?”

Her brows furrowed slightly at how I addressed her, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded and helped Cyril out of the room. Before leaving, she turned back to remind Stephanie, “You two should head home soon. Don’t wander around too much.”

Watching them disappear down the hallway, a sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart.

But all I could do was laugh bitterly at how pathetic it all felt.

In my past life, I got what I wanted—Serena became my girlfriend. Yet, happiness never followed.

On my birthday, I hoped for nothing more than a simple celebration with her. Instead, she told me, “I’m busy with work. Can you stop bothering me?”

Later, I saw pictures on Cyril’s friends' social media. He and Serena had gone skiing in the mountains that day.

Not only that. When I was writhing in pain from a stomach ulcer and asked her to accompany me to the hospital, she brushed me off impatiently. “I’m not a doctor. If it hurts, go to the hospital. Why are you telling me?”

But not long after, I saw her at the hospital—standing beside Cyril, who had come in for nothing more than a cold.

Then there was also a time I planned a surprise for our anniversary. But on my way back, I got into a car accident.

The doctors called her, urgently asking her to come to the hospital to sign for my surgery.

Her response? “Is he dead? If not, don’t bother me.”

I heard Cyril’s excited voice in the background as she spoke. “Serena, look! The Northern Lights are beautiful. This trip was so worth it!”

When the call ended, my body was drenched in blood, staining half the hospital bed.

I could still remember the twisting pain in my chest as I lay there and died. Even now, the mere memory made it hard to breathe.

Clutching my aching heart, I let out a pale, bitter laugh.

Serena, if my love is such a burden to you, then I’ll never love you again.

That night, Stephanie and I didn’t linger. We went home early.

The next morning, I woke up groggily and reached for my phone to check the time.

But the first thing I saw was a message from Cyril.

He’d sent me a photo of Serena sleeping at his place accompanied with a message.

[Cyril: Serena stayed over at my house last night to keep me company.]

I stared at it without a hint of emotion and then replied with a simple response.

[Me: Oh.]

I didn’t give him much attention, but he wasn’t done.

Soon after, he sent me another photo—this time, it was of breakfast.

[Cyril: Serena made me breakfast this morning. She even cooked heart-shaped eggs just for me.]

Serena had never stepped foot in the kitchen when we were together.

She used to say, “I’m the princess of my family. My parents spoiled me, and I’m not about to lower my standards now that I’m with you.”

So, to take care of her, I’d gone out of my way to take cooking classes, learning how to make all her favorite meals. As long as I was around, she never had to eat anything cold or stale.

But realizing she’d gone to such lengths for Cyril made all of my efforts feel like the cruelest joke.

I stared at his message, didn’t reply, and set my phone down to finish my breakfast.

Five minutes later, I got a message from Serena herself.

She didn’t mention last night at all.

Instead, her message was:

[Serena: Those meatballs you made last time were pretty good. Make some for me today—I’ll be waiting at the office.]

Shortly after, another message from her came in.

[Serena: Oh, and don’t forget—no cilantro.]