I glanced toward the table and saw a bottle of sleeping pills. That’s when I realized what had happened—he’d misunderstood. The photo I meant to send to my best friend must have somehow ended up on Asher’s phone.
After my parents’ death, I’d struggled with mild depression and sometimes needed sleeping pills to make it through the night. He knew that. And seeing the pills now, he must’ve jumped to conclusions, thinking I was about to take my own life.
As I looked at his face, still marked with traces of fear, a memory flashed in my mind—of the time, just a month ago, when he had vanished. He left without a word, no phone number, no message, and was unreachable for half a month.
I searched everywhere for him, calling relentlessly, but all I got was the cold, unfeeling sound of a busy tone. Desperate, I went to his company, only to be stonewalled by his secretary: "His whereabouts are confidential, no comment."
For half a month, I faced the suffocating darkness of the night alone, haunted by nightmares and growing thinner with each passing day. When he finally returned, all he said was that it had been a joke—an offhand remark that shattered me.
I wonder if he realizes how I felt back then. Maybe now he can understand.
As I lowered my gaze, I noticed his mismatched socks, one blue and one black, and a wave of unexpected warmth washed over me. Despite everything, he still cared enough to come rushing here, even in his disarray.
I couldn’t help but think back to that day at my parents' gravesite, when he held me close and promised to take care of me forever. His voice had been so gentle then, soothing in a way that made me feel safe for the first time in a long while. It was a light in the darkness of my life, a flicker of hope.
In that moment, I truly believed I would spend the rest of my life as his wife.
But reality always delivers a crushing blow just when I start to hope.
His voice, sharp and full of accusation, shattered my illusions completely.
"Ingrid, when did you become so manipulative?"
Asher raised his hand to his face, examining his fingers stained with blood. He sniffed deliberately, then glanced at the blood on the bed sheets with a deep frown.