Chapter <b>250 </b>
The <b>winter </b><b>garden </b>was <b>quiet</b><b>, </b>the airced <b>with </b>the faint <b>scent </b><b>of </b>cherry blossoms<b>. </b>Snow drifted down in soft flurries, melting the moment it touched <b>Charlotte’s </b><b>hair</b><b>. </b>
<b>She </b><b>stood </b>in the cold wind, barely steady on her feet<b>. </b>
Her flu <b>hadn’t </b>fully <b>passed</b><b>, </b>and the chill <b>was </b>starting to bring back a dull<b>, </b>throbbing ache in her head.
When Sean <b>gave his </b><b>excuse</b><b>, </b>Charlotte lifted her <b>eyes </b><b>to </b>meet his<b>, </b>the sorrow in her gaze quickly tucked away.
“<b>Got </b>it<b>,</b><b>” </b>she said <b>calmly</b><b>. </b>“Just<b>… </b>remember to take it off next time.”
<b>Sean’s </b><b>throat </b>tightened.
Her voice <b>was </b><b>soft, </b>carried <b>by </b><b>the </b>wind, and underneath the calm was <b>a </b>fragile edge that cracked like ss.
<b>“</b><b>I </b>know<b>,</b><b>” </b>she said, voice trembling. <b>“</b>When you love someone<b>, </b>it’s real. And when <b>you stop </b>loving them<b>, </b>that’s real too.”
A shiver ran down Sean’s spine and spread like ice through his whole body.
There was a heartbreaking calm in her <b>eyes</b><b>, </b>like someone who had finally <b>epted </b>something too heavy <b>to </b>fight.
“At first, <b>I </b><b>couldn’t </b>understand,” she continued quietly<b>. </b><b>“</b><b>You </b>said you’d always stay by <b>my </b>side. Then one day<b>, </b><b>it </b>was like all <b>of </b>that meant nothing<b>. </b>I tried toe up with <b>excuses </b>for <b>you</b>. I tried to understand. But you just told me I was imagining things.<b>” </b>
She smiled faintly<b>, </b><b>a </b>soft curve with no warmth. <b>“</b><b>Now </b><b>I </b>get it. There’s no logic to love.”
Sean’s chest ached. He flinched at her words.
<b>“</b>Promises only matter when <b>you’re </b>still in love<b>,</b><b>” </b>she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was so soft it was almost lost in the wind.
Watching her speak, watching the pain on her face<b>, </b>a wave of fear crept through him.
Suddenly<b>, </b>he was scared.
Scared that <b>even </b>after he dealt with Joseph<b>, </b>there would be no going back.
<b>Scared </b><b>of </b>a <b>future </b><b>without </b>Charlotte in it.
Across the drifting <b>snow</b><b>, </b>Charlotte looked <b>quietly </b>into his eyes.
After a <b>long </b><b>pause</b><b>, </b>she <b>gave </b>him a soft smile<b>, </b>her tone deliberately light.
“Sean Jasper<b>, </b><b>I </b>hope you find happiness.<b>” </b>
His pupils shrank. Instinctively<b>, </b>he <b>reached </b><b>out </b><b>as if </b>trying <b>to </b><b>catch </b>something slipping away<b>, </b><b>but </b>Charlotte had <b>already </b>turned <b>to </b><b>leave </b><b>without </b><b>the </b><b>slightest </b>hesitation<b>. </b>
The <b>fringe </b><b>of </b>her wine–<b>red </b>scarf brushed against the back of his hand<b>–</b>light<b>, </b><b>barely </b>there<b>, </b>but it lingered.
A pained expression crossed his <b>face</b><b>. </b>Without thinking<b>, </b>his body moved forward. <b>He </b>took <b>two steps </b><b>after </b><b>her</b><b>. </b>
And in the end<b>, </b>he couldn’t hold back.
“Charlotte<b>…</b>”
She froze for a moment but didn’t turn around.
She just kept walking, steady and unhurried.
Not once <b>did </b>she look back.
Sean stopped <b>dead </b>in his tracks,
He told himself he <b>couldn’t </b>follow her.
Not now.
the chased her <b>down</b><b>, </b>all the effort would be for nothing.
All the <b>pain </b>she had endured would be wasted.
He had to get rid <b>of </b>Joseph first.
Only then could he earn his <b>way </b>back to her side.
Sean returned to his private vi.
The <b>house </b><b>was </b>cold. Too <b>quiet</b>. <b>Too </b>empty<b>. </b>
<b>He </b><b>sat </b>on the edge <b>of </b>the couch<b>, </b><b>unmoving</b><b>, </b><b>as </b><b>if </b><b>the </b>air <b>had </b>been knocked from his lungs<b>. </b>
<b>Outside</b><b>, </b>the sun <b>dipped </b><b>low</b>. Thest <b>streaks </b><b>of </b>sunset cast long shadows across <b>his </b>face.
He <b>didn’t </b><b>move</b><b>. </b>
He <b>just </b>sat there like a statue<b>, </b><b>staring </b>at <b>nothing</b>.
Night <b>fell </b><b>slowly</b><b>. </b>Darkness <b>crept </b>in<b>. </b>
<b>Eventually</b><b>, </b>Sean’s gaze dropped <b>to </b>the watch on his wrist<b>. </b>
The <b>one </b>she <b>gave </b>
him.
After a long silence, he gently unfastened it and ced it into its original box. He shut the lid with care.
And then, as if a dam had broken<b>, </b>his <b>eyes </b>burned.
The feeling was sharp<b>, </b>unfamiliar.
It hit hard, without warning, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
Drip<b>. </b>
A single tearnded on the metal box<b>. </b>
The darkness hid the redness <b>in </b>his <b>eyes</b><b>, </b>but the moonlight outlined the lonely figure he had be.
A few dayster<b>, </b>the Jaspers had visitors<b>. </b>