Chapter 6

Joanna rolled down the car window, gulping fresh air to combat the suffocating weight on her heart.

So, this was it.

She finally understood. To Henley, the one who had once saved him had now become the very embodiment of his trauma. People were contradictory and complicated.

Memories of their darkest days together flooded back—the blood-stained walls, the violence, the young man clinging to her as if she were his last lifeline.

His desperate whisper echoed in her mind. "Joanna, I have nothing left. You're all I have. If you ever leave me, take me with you. Don't let me suffer here alone."

No. Someone as selfish and greedy as Henley deserved to be left behind. Let him drown in his past, swallowed by guilt until he fell into the deepest pits of hell.

-

Back home, Joanna locked herself in her bedroom. She set up the new video recorder and filmed a short message. Then, she saved it to the memory card and scheduled its delivery.

"Please send this card back here exactly one year from today," she instructed the courier.

The courier accepted the card and asked curiously, "Is it a surprise for your husband? An anniversary gift?"

Only then did Joanna find the courier familiar.

"Have you forgotten? Your husband always sends you flowers for your anniversary. I'm usually the one delivering them," he reminded her. "And I remember each bouquet came with a long, heartfelt letter. He even handpicked the flowers himself. He really loves you."

The courier's genuine admiration stung like a cruel joke.

Joanna smiled, offering no response.

"Today's your anniversary, isn't it? I thought he might've sent you flowers again. But I guess this time, it's your turn to surprise him," the courier added.

Only then did Joanna realize—it was their wedding anniversary.

In past years, she would've received flowers and gifts.

This year, she received betrayal, wrapped in raw, unforgiving truth.

After the courier left cheerfully with the memory card, Joanna collapsed onto the sofa. The searing pain from her illness clawed at her body.

In desperation, she reached for her medication, but a jagged nail from the drawer scratched her arm.

Ignoring the bleeding wound, she shakily emptied the bottle into her palm, swallowing pill after pill until it was empty.

Finally, the pain subsided just enough to let her breathe.

Before she could have a moment to herself, knocks sounded at the door.

At first, she thought the courier had forgotten something.

Dragging her weak body, she moved slowly toward the door.

The knocking grew louder and more urgent, almost frantic.

Joanna's instincts told her something was wrong. She quickened her pace.

When she opened the door, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the room, followed by the deafening roar of thunder.

Henley fell into her arms, trembling like a bird with broken wings. His clothes were damp, but not from rain—his body was drenched in cold sweat.

He clung to her like a drowning man, his eyes wild and desperate.

"Joanna... Joanna..." he repeated.

Of course. Even now, Henley couldn't escape his past. Thunderstorms always pushed him into the depths of terror, robbing him of reason.

Lost in his fear, he would hurt himself, spiraling into madness. Only Joanna's presence could pull him back from the abyss.

Clinging to her as though she were his lifeline, he let out a guttural cry, his voice raw with desperation.

"Joanna, don't leave me. Never... Never leave me!"