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I smiled,pulling my hand free,staring long before saying,“But I don’t love you anymore.”
When did I stop loving him?
Was it when he refused to believe me?
Or when he trampled my heart,sprinkled glass shards,and told me to try again?
It didn’t matter.
I handed him the apple,asking softly,“Do you want to know why George died?”
That morning,George got a call from someone claiming to be Ethan’s colleague,saying Ethan needed an urgent file from home.
Scarface was the one who made that call,using a number from Ethan’s phone.
Scarface wasactually Sophie’s husband—they’d never divorced.
Years ago,Sophie had dumped Ethan for being poor,chasing a rich heir.
But the heir gambled away his fortune,got scarred in a fight,and Sophie fled back to Ethan,rekindling their affair.
Scarface tracked her down.Sophie,after Ethan’s money,panicked when George opposed our divorce.
She and Scarface lured George out,staging the accident.It almost worked perfectly.
If it hadn't been for the driver, George's death would have been covered up forever.
“Ethan,if it weren’t for you,George wouldn’t be dead.Isn't it ironic? Your precious Sophie knew you were AB-negative.She planned to sell your blood but wouldn’t let you save George.Your love was worth less than money.Your so - called great romance was all a lie."
Ethan’s face darkened,but I felt lighter.
Before leaving,I handed him a cartoon tin.He clutched it,trembling.“Is this from Dad?Did he forgive me?”
I patted his shoulder,sighing,“Hold onto it tight.It’s your dog son,Buddy.He’ll keep you company.”
I walked out,Ethan’s anguished sobs echoing behind me.
A week later,Emily and I took George’s photo to the Rockies.
We pointed out sights to him.“Dad,this is Red Gate…Midpoint…We’re at the summit!”
At the top,we shouted,tears streaming down our faces.
If George were here,he would have been bragging to his friends about conquering the peak.
Now,he lay silent in the photo,not speaking,not laughing.
George,I hate this kind of silence from you, but…
