Evadne just stared at him, her face cold and sharp, like a mountain capped with fresh, blinding snow.
She was right there in front of him, and yet it felt like there was a canyon between them—an impossible distance.
He knew she loved him. But still, he’d built up a wall of ice, a barrier she couldn’t scale, shutting out the warmth and wildness of her love.
It was just like three years ago, Thaddeus thought—maybe even worse.
Maybe he was trying, in his own way, to show he cared. But he couldn’t do it like before. The gentle words, the thoughtful gestures, the way he used to spoil her? All gone.
And all at once, a crushing wave of disappointment crashed over her, leaving her cold, drenched, and painfully clear-headed.
“My stomach’s always been a mess. You know that,” she said quietly.
Evadne met his dark, unreadable eyes and tried to smile, letting herself finally give in. “Don’t worry. From now on, I’ll take care of myself.”
“But I think… this is the last time I’ll let myself get hurt for you, Thaddeus. I’m done being that foolish.”
The last time…
Her voice trembled, just enough to catch his ear and make something deep inside him twist.
“That’s good,” Thaddeus said, his throat tight. His chest felt hollow, like someone had scooped out his insides and dumped a bag of jagged rocks in their place. He couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t make sense of the ache clawing at him.
“I left some of your things at my place,” she said, voice low, fighting not to let too much heartbreak show. “If you want, you can come by and get them, or ask Alva to. Whatever works.”
She’d been avoiding the house for days—she couldn’t face all those reminders. Everything there, from the matching coffee mugs to the silly fridge magnets, they’d picked out together, little by little. It was all theirs.
Now it was all being torn apart.
She couldn’t bear it. She could only run.
“Don’t bother,” Thaddeus said flatly. “Throw them out.”
He wasn’t someone to waste things. Even if he didn’t want to go, he could have Alva pack them, or get Gordon to pick them up. But deep down, he was running away from something too—a truth he didn’t want to face.
Evadne’s eyes burned, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’ve accepted it, Thaddeus. You don’t love me anymore. I just want you to be healthy, to live a good life. That’s enough for me.”
Thaddeus’ eyelashes fluttered, but his face didn’t change. “You too.”
“I’m tired. I need to rest now.”
Evadne’s teary eyes traced his hard, handsome features one last time. Then, she turned away and curled up under the blanket, small and pale, like a fragile cocoon.
“Mr. Thaddeus, is Mrs. Abernathy… is she alright?” Gordon finally asked, worry in his voice.
But Thaddeus just kept walking, silent as a stone.
Gordon bit his lip, frustrated. But he knew—matters of the heart aren’t something anyone else can fix.
Right now, his boss was acting like he’d just crawled straight out of a cave—emotionally stunted, impossible to reach.
Winning him over? That was going to be an uphill battle for Mrs. Abernathy. Hell-level difficulty.
Thaddeus walked on, lost in thought. All he could see was Evadne curled up on that hospital bed, all he could hear was her voice, drained of hope:
“Thaddeus, goodbye…”
Something inside him flinched, and suddenly the world tilted—
“Mr. Thaddeus, watch out!”
Gordon lunged, but too late. Thaddeus, lost in his head, missed a step and tumbled hard down the stairs, landing right on his left shoulder—still sore from the bullet wound that hadn’t fully healed. The pain shot through him, sweat soaking through his suit in an instant.
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