23
After Ethan’s mom’s funeral, we buried
Michael.
His funeral was small. No family. Few friends.
I watched his body slide into the incinerator. I
watched them put his ashes in a box.
Such a gentle soul, reduced to dust.
I chose a peaceful spot for him, overlooking
the ocean. He’d always loved the water.
Ethan stood beside me, holding my hand,
promising Michael, solemnly, sincerely, that
<
promising Michael, solemnly, sincerely, that
he’d take care of me.
Forever.
Michael smiled gently from his photo. He
couldn’t answer.
I brought his journal.
Thick. Heavy.
I didn’t know what was inside.
I was curious, but I remembered his words.
Don’t read it.
Don’t read it.
Okay.
I wouldn’t.
I lit a corner of the book.
The flame caught, almost burning my fingers.
I dropped it.
It landed on the ground, the flame
extinguished.
I reached for it, and a gust of wind blew a
page open.
L
I glanced at it, then froze.
The first page was filled with my name.
Olivia. Olivia. Olivia…
Over and over.
Ethan saw it, too.
We stood in silence.
I picked up the book, closed it, and lit it
again.
The flames consumed it.
୮
I looked at Michael’s picture.
He was still smiling.
Like he had in the hospital, when he asked
me, “Next life… let’s be real brother and
sister?”
Okay.
Epilogue
Two years later, our engagement
announcement shocked the city.
Everyone thought Ethan would hate me after
his mother’s death.
But he took my hand, without hesitation.
I didn’t explain that his mother’s death was
her own fault. It didn’t matter anymore.
We had a lifetime to love each other.
It took a year to heal, after Ethan’s mom and
Michael.
Another year to fall in love again.
Then we got engaged.
A year later, we got married.
The month we got married, Janet got out of
<
She still didn’t know that her precious
daughter had followed in her footsteps.
Permanently.
Janet went crazy when she found out.
She went to see my dad, who slapped her and
threw her out.
He was still partially paralyzed. Thanks to her
and Sarah.
After he wrote the will, they’d started
poisoning him, small doses, to speed up the
process.
<
If Janet hadn’t gone to jail, he probably would
have died.
He’d been calling me for three years. I never
answered.
He tried to visit, but I wouldn’t see him.
I was heartless.
I’d said we were done. I meant it.
His regret, his heartbreak, were his problems.
Not mine.
I’d given him so many chances.
<
get my toys back. He slapped me instead.
At eighteen, I thought he’d defend me. He
pushed me into the cake.
Three years ago, I thought he’d be furious
that Janet tried to kill me.
He protected her instead, helped her destroy
the evidence.
He didn’t care if I lived or died.
He had another daughter. His “true love’s”
child. Sweet and obedient.
I didn’t matter.
IuIuniialli.
That day, I vowed I’d never forgive him.
And I never did.
Ethan was healthy again.
After we got married, he took over Everbright,
and within a year, he shocked everyone.
Turns out the party boy had a head for
business.
He was a natural.
He took over because I was pregnant.
<
With his child.
Everbright needed more than Mr. Chen. Ethan
stepped up.
And he was brilliant.
But his life wasn’t easy.
Pregnancy hormones made me crazy.
Poor Ethan came home every day to a
hormonal, demanding wife.
He said I’d gone from sane to insane.
One day, he snapped. Yelled at me. Stormed
く
୮
I was eight months pregnant.
I had bodyguards. I sent one to follow him.
I was worried, but the bodyguard texted me
that Ethan was at the cemetery.
Visiting his mother, I assumed.
Nope.
He was at Michael’s grave.
Two bottles of expensive whiskey. One
poured on the grave. One consumed.
<
…
…
LU
I smiled, shaking my head.
Then the bodyguard texted again: “He’s at the
wrong grave. He’s hugging Mrs. Henderson’s
tombstone.”
I texted back, but there was no response.
Ethan probably caught him.
I called Ethan, but he’d left his phone at
home.
I waited. He didn’t come back.
<
Y
ཕུཔ
he walked in, smelling of whiskey and cold
night air.
I was trying to figure out how to apologize
when he handed me a bag.
“What’s this?”
Roasted chestnuts. From my favorite place.
The one with the long lines.
He avoided my eyes, trying to act casual.
“Went for a run. Picked these up on the way
back.”
“Oh.”
r
He stiffened. “It’s cold. Needed something to
warm me up.”
I almost laughed. “So why did my brother tell
me you were crying at his grave?”
Ethan paused.
Then muttered, “Damn, that’s fast. Should
have asked for twins.”
I heard him.
I laughed.
He came over, took the bag, and started
I thought about the old Ethan.
The arrogant party boy who’d tear up the city.
Except for Everbright.
The man peeling chestnuts merged with the
memory.
He looked up.
“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not sucking up to
you.”
He popped a chestnut into my mouth, his
voice still gruff. “Just bored.”
<
He looked up.
“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not sucking up to
you.”
He popped a chestnut into my mouth, his
voice still gruff. “Just bored.”
Two hours later, in bed, his arms around me,
his face buried in my neck.
“Olivia, I even peeled chestnuts for you.”
“Please don’t yell at me anymore.”
(The End)
