로그인공유
Chapter 3: The Ghost and the Will
최신 업데이트:
2025-08-04 15:28:49
최신 챕터
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 37: The Locked Room
Elijah hadn’t been to his mother’s house in more than five years. The place stood quiet at the edge of the woods, shrouded in ivy that had crawled up the stone walls like a slow invasion. The roof tiles sagged in places, and moss spread thick across the porch. It looked both abandoned and eternal, as if the house itself refused to let go of the memories inside. When he pushed the iron gate open, it let out a long, aching creak. The sound cut through the silence of the woods like a warning. The air was damp, smelling of pine, dirt, and something faintly metallic like rain on old nails. Peace. That was how the house had once felt. A retreat. A sanctuary. Now, it smelled more like secrets. Elijah stepped onto the porch, his chest tight, and turned the old brass handle. The door resisted at first, then gave way with a reluctant groan. Dusty air pressed against his face, stale and unmoving. Inside, everything was exactly where she had left it. A framed photo of her on the mantel, s
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 36: You Should Have Told Me
The sun was already high when Elijah came back. Light poured across the penthouse like it was trying too hard bright, almost cruel, as if the day itself didn’t care that the night before had ripped something open between them. Gabe hadn’t moved. He was still in the same chair, same clothes, same hollow stillness. His eyes were red, not from sleep but from the lack of it. He looked like a man who had been sitting in silence so long that even his heartbeat had slowed to match the ticking of the clock on the wall. When the door clicked open, his head lifted. He didn’t speak. He didn’t rush forward. He just looked at Elijah like a prisoner waiting to hear if the verdict was life or death. Elijah closed the door behind him with a quiet finality. His chest rose and fell, calm on the outside, storming on the inside. In his hand was the black folder. The folder Gabe had hidden. The one that carried Arthur Vale’s handwriting, his threat, his promise. Gabe’s eyes dropped to it immed
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 35: The File He Hid
Elijah didn’t sleep. The night stretched long and merciless, hour after hour slipping by while he stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of silence press down on him. The sheets were twisted at his waist, damp with sweat. Beside him, the empty space where Gabe usually slept felt colder than stone. At some point, the city outside softened from black to gray. Then the first trace of gold crept through the blinds. Morning. Elijah swung his legs out of bed and sat there for a long moment, breathing like every inhale scraped his lungs raw. Then, without hesitating, he dressed. Simple clothes. Nothing that felt heavy. He shoved a few essentials into a small bag, every movement deliberate, mechanical, like he had rehearsed leaving a hundred times before. In the bedroom, Gabe stayed behind the door. Quiet. Still. He didn’t call out. Didn’t ask him to stay. Didn’t come after him. Maybe he already knew. Maybe he understood there was nothing left to say that wouldn’t break them more.
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 34: The Moment I Almost Saved You
The apartment was quiet when Elijah came in, too quiet for the storm inside his chest. He found Gabe in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, rinsing dishes under the steady rush of water. He was humming low, some old tune Elijah half-recognized but couldn’t place. Like nothing had changed. Like Elijah’s world hadn’t cracked wide open. “Hey,” Gabe said without looking up. “You eat?” Elijah didn’t answer. He stood there in the doorway, frozen. Watching him. Watching the way Gabe’s shoulders moved when he scrubbed the plate, the way his bare feet shifted against the tile. Ordinary. Familiar. Safe. Or at least, that’s what it used to mean. Now every gesture felt sharpened, every detail a weapon. “Gabe.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough. Gabe turned. And whatever smile he’d been carrying slipped right off his face. Something in Elijah’s tone had warned him. “What is it?” Elijah lifted the crumpled printout in his hand. The paper shook, though his grip was iron. “I know.”
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 33: Paid to Watch You
Cassia didn’t look surprised when Elijah showed up at her door. She rarely looked surprised by anything. She opened the door in her silk robe, her hair tied neatly back, a book in one hand. When she saw him, she exhaled long and low, like she’d been expecting this visit for weeks. Then she stepped aside. “You found something,” she said, her tone flat. Elijah walked past her into the penthouse, the weight of the papers heavy in his hand. The place looked exactly as it always did: white marble, black lacquered furniture, the faint scent of expensive perfume clinging to the air. A stage set. A cage. He didn’t sit. He didn’t look around. He simply held out the printed contracts. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.” Cassia took them with steady fingers. She didn’t ask what they were. She didn’t pretend confusion. She didn’t even skim them for long. After a few seconds, she folded the papers in half, set them on the counter, and walked toward the coffee machine. Her silence w
Love Didn’t Save Us. It Just Made the Fall Hurt More Chapter 32: Just Another Job
The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, its sound faint but sharp in the silence. Elijah slipped out of bed with practiced quiet, careful not to disturb the rhythm of Gabe’s breathing. The apartment was dark except for the faint glow spilling under the office door. He moved barefoot, every step slow, deliberate, like he was walking into enemy territory instead of across the polished floorboards of Gabe’s home. His heart thudded in his chest. Not from fear of being caught though that risk was real but from the truth he was afraid to find. The office smelled like coffee gone cold and old leather. Stacks of books lined one wall, their spines neat and ordered. On the desk sat framed photographs frozen smiles of Gabe with his old colleagues, snapshots from a life before Elijah had reentered it. And there, half-closed, glowing faintly in the dark, was Gabe’s old laptop. Unlocked. Elijah hesitated only for a moment before pulling the screen open. The glow lit his face, pale in the
