“You’re the heir to the Ford family, right? And you, Holley, are the precious daughter of the Gregory family, aren’t you?”
“Was it fun pretending to have amnesia? Did you enjoy playing with my feelings?”
“You two deserve each other—you’re both scum!”
With tears streaming down my face, I pointed at them, my voice breaking.
“You promised to take care of me, didn’t you? Well, pay up! Now!”
I wiped my face, smirked through the tears,I raised my middle finger at them both before slamming the door behind me.
When I returned to my small rental apartment, the first thing I saw was the birthday cake I had ordered sitting by the door. I had saved up to buy it, but now, the sight of it only filled me with regret. So, I gave it to the little girl who lived next door.
Her sweet smile reminded me of the times I used to dream about having a daughter with Ezail. But those dreams were nothing more than illusions—like a flower reflected in a mirror or the moon on the surface of the water—beautiful, but untouchable.
I stepped inside the apartment, which was filled with memories of Ezail and me. Everything was a painful reminder—the matching couple pajamas, the towels, the walls covered in photos of us together. I could almost picture him standing in the kitchen, wearing soft loungewear as he cooked soup for me, his smile warm and gentle. That image of him, so different from the cold man in the black suit, was like a dagger to my heart.
The memories felt too real, each one cutting deeper than the last.
Without hesitating, I called a junk collector and sold everything. I didn’t leave a single thing behind. Even if it was just a small amount, I wanted to get back whatever I could. When Ezail returned for his belongings, he would find nothing but an empty room.
When he finally came back, he looked around in disbelief. "Marla, you..."
Without lifting my eyes, I held my cat in my arms and calmly said, "I thought Mr. Ford wouldn’t care about these things, so I sold them all."
For a long time, I had doubted Ezail’s feelings for me. But over time, his affection seemed to fill the emptiness inside me, and I started to trust him. Somewhere along the way, I ended up loving him more than he ever loved me.
But now, seeing him for who he truly was, I knew I had to let him go.
“If you want your things, go to the junkyard and look for them there,” I added, my voice cold.