Chapter 1547: Chapter 1547: The Last Ti She Cried for Him
If she had known earlier that the one he loved was another woman, she would never have intruded on their world of affection.
In the end, the root of the mistake was her.
She thought that after the divorce, what she owed him could sohow be repaid, but she had never expected that seeing him again would be in this way.
“Zaiden, I’m sorry. But I know, these three words an nothing to you anymore. I know you won’t forgive , and maybe I shouldn’t even hope for your forgiveness.” Ann Nolan’s face was calm, detached, and pale.
She wasn’t wearing makeup today; under the sunlight, her bare face carried a fragile beauty.
In her eyes, sparkling glimrs of tears erged, drop by drop.
From the deep night to midday, she had been standing there for a long ti.
“Zaiden, there’s nothing more for to say to you. Take care.” She lowered her head, her eyelids drooping.
Between her eyebrows lingered a sadness, frozen and impossible to disperse.
At this mont, she crouched down, taking a small, delicate box from the pocket of her coat.
Her fingers opened the box. Inside, it was nothing else—it was the wedding ring they once shared.
He had placed it on her finger himself, on their wedding day, with his own hands.
But after just three days, he had told her to take it off, because she was unworthy of wearing it.
There had been anger, resentnt, sorrow, but now, at this mont, her heart no longer carried those intense feelings.
What could cut deeper than death?
Zaiden Santos was gone, and all their mories and the past had beco nothing but illusions reflected in the water’s surface.
She closed the box again and used her hands to dig a small hole in the ground beside the gravestone.
The earth wedged under her nails, causing pain, but Ann Nolan seed entirely numb to it.
Her face bore no expression, as she repeated the sa action over and over… digging.
No one knew how much ti had passed before she buried the box deep into the soil, along with it burying her love, her obsession, her marriage.
No sweetness, bitterness, or acridity remained. Her sense of taste had dulled to the blandness of plain water.
The soil was covered back up.
The man in the gravestone photograph remained dashing, elegant, and refined, yet… forever frozen in ti.
Ann Nolan stood up, perhaps having crouched too long, and in an instant, the world spun around her.
She clutched the gravestone, and suddenly blood spurted from her mouth.
Scarlet drops stained the gravestone. She collapsed to the ground in grief, her gaze empty.
“Zaiden…” Ann sat limp on the ground, her lips barely parting, but still whispering his na.
It turns out that when you carve soone out from your very bones, the pain cuts through yourself as well.
And yet, this would likely be the last ti she’d ever shed tears for him.
She had loved, hated, been hurt. After this final cry, they would have no more entanglent.
Ann Nolan’s blood stained the gravestone, like a vibrant red spider lily blooming, glinting eerily under the sun.
In the end… they had no more ties.
Perhaps it was because she had crouched too long; Ann felt lightheaded and nearly fell to the ground.
If she could do it all over again, she thought, she would still choose to love him, but she would never have married him.
This marriage was destruction—it destroyed three people.
Ann Nolan leaned against the gravestone and slowly rose to her feet.
At that mont, she heard the sound of high-heeled shoes, “clack, clack, clack,” growing closer from afar.
Through her dizzy vision, Ann looked toward the distance.
Even though her eyesight was blurry, her head swimming, she could clearly make out the figure approaching—Harper Glorian.
Today, Harper Glorian was also dressed in a black sweater. She wore a black pencil skirt below, with no excessive adornnts, appearing simple and unembellished.
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