Chapter 6

"Zo, what did you just say?"

Sebastian turned back, panic flickering in his eyes.

Zoe turned her head to meet his gaze as she repeated herself calmly.

"I said I don't love you anymore."

His expression darkened, his jaw tightening with displeasure. Since when had Zoe become so unreasonable, throwing around words like that just because she was upset?

They remained at an impasse for a long time before he finally spoke, his voice cold.

"I've already explained exactly what happened. Stop sulking. Take some time to calm down."

The door closed behind him, and Zoe smiled through her tears. Even now, he thought she was merely saying things out of spite.

Much later, her phone suddenly began chiming with message after message. Despite the pain, she picked it up to find a video from Yvonne. Onscreen, Sebastian kept studying an ultrasound printout, his delight unmistakable.

[Sebastian, look. The baby's nose looks just like yours. His eyes, too.]

[Because we made him out of love.]

Zoe switched off her phone with a bitter smile, her eyes stinging again. During her second year in prison, Sebastian had visited and promised her, "When you get out, Zo, I'll give you the wedding of the century. The whole world will know I love you. We'll have a house full of children and grandchildren. I'll make it all up to you and give you a happy, fulfilling life."

Yet he was the very man who'd gone to such lengths to make her lose their baby. Resting a hand on her flat abdomen, she broke down again, sobbing too hard to speak.

During that week, Sebastian brought her a different gift every day, only to leave each time because of "urgent business." Soon afterward, Yvonne would send another photograph or video.

It struck Zoe that the way he loved someone had never changed. He carefully remembered Yvonne's likes and dislikes, making sure meals contained none of the ingredients she hated. On shopping trips, he took the time to admire the things she picked out and help her choose. On sunny days, he angled the umbrella toward her to keep her shaded.

Zoe had taught him all of it. Now he was doing those things for his wife.

Bitterness filled her as she realized she was the only one still clinging stubbornly to their memories. It was time to let go. Closing her eyes briefly, she deleted every message from Yvonne, then checked herself out of the hospital early and went home.

Once she got home, she dragged the wooden chest out from under the bed again. The gifts Sebastian had given her ended up in the dumpster around the corner, while the thick stack of love letters and every photo album at the bottom went into the fireplace.

Her hands wouldn't stop trembling as she watched the flames. Throughout their four years of college, he'd written her love letters from time to time. They'd gradually accumulated into ninety-nine, each of which she'd read more than a hundred times. During the torment of prison, those words had been her private lifeline, while the albums held the best memories of their youth.

Now it was all ash.

She couldn't look away as the flames slowly died, the pain in her heart making it impossible to breathe. It felt as though the woman she'd once been, along with her ability to love, had burned away with them.

Sebastian, I'll never love you again.

The shriek of brakes outside told her he was home. Taking a deep breath, she wiped away her tears and composed herself.

"Zo! Are you home? Zo..."

His voice was frantic, but she no longer wanted to answer.

"Zo... Why did you come home by yourself? I went to the hospital, and you weren't there. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

He grabbed her and crushed her against him as though he could make her part of his own body. Even with her in his arms, though, his panic wouldn't subside. Somehow, he still felt she was slipping away.

The sudden strain tore at Zoe's wounds, sending pain through her as traces of blood began to seep through her bandages.

"Tell me whenever you're going somewhere from now on, Zo. Don't make me worry."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to come home. I didn't want to interrupt your work."

"I've told you, Zo. You're never a bother."

His eyes were full of love, but she merely nodded.

"You won't have to worry about me again."

His throat tightened. Something felt wrong, though he couldn't say what. Then his attention caught on the fireplace, where scraps of paper hadn't burned completely. The pattern on them looked familiar, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen it before, and that vague uneasiness rose again.

"Zo, what were you burning?"