Seven Years of Devotion: He Left Me to Die, I Left Him for Good Chapter 09

Seven Years of Devotion: He Left Me to Die, I Left Him for Good Chapter 09

On a weekend in late autumn, I went grocery shopping. 

While waiting in line at the checkout, I saw Adrian. 

He was wearing a worn, pilled sweater, holding a cheap bottle of liquor and a bag of peanuts. 

His hair was long and unkempt, his eyes dull and unfocused. 

When he saw me, he froze. 

His gaze dropped to my shopping cart. 

Inside were a pair of slippers, matching toothbrushes, and the steak Victor liked. 

I looked at him as well. 

The once confident Adrian now looked like a fallen drifter. 

“Clara…” He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse. “Have you been well?” 

“I have,” I said. 

“That’s good…” 

He gave a bitter smile and looked down at the cheap liquor in his hand. 

“I got what I deserved,” he said quietly. 

“Every night when I close my eyes, I see the way you looked at me at that intersection. If I had just stopped the car back then, even for a second… things wouldn’t have turned out like this.” 

I looked at him, and the last trace of resentment in my heart faded away. 

There was no point hating someone who had already destroyed himself. 

“Adrian, there are no what–ifs in life.” I said. “The moment you chose to close that window, our ending was already written.” 

It was my turn to check out. 

I paid and pushed my cart toward the exit. 

Adrian was still standing there. 

Just as I was about to leave, I heard him shout 

behind me. 

“I’m sorry!” 

His voice was loud, breaking with emotion. 

Everyone in the store turned to look at him. 

I didn’t look back. 

Outside, the sunlight was warm, golden ginkgo. leaves covering the streets. 

Victor’s car was parked by the roadside. He was leaning against it, waiting for me. 

When he saw me, he walked over quickly and took the shopping bags from my hands. 

“Are they heavy?” He asked. 

“Not really,” I said with a smile. 

“Let’s go home.” 

“Okay. Home.” 

February 28, 2027. 

A full year had passed since the evacuation. 

Victor and I got married. 

There was no grand wedding, just a simple 

meal with close friends and family. 

But I felt a sense of peace I had never known before. 

That night, I sat in the study sorting through old 

things. 

A photograph slipped out from a book. 

It was a portrait Adrian had taken of me in 

Dorzan. 

In the photo, I was smiling brightly, my eyes shining. 

Back then, I thought I had the whole world. 

Now, looking at it, I felt like I was staring at a 

stranger. 

Victor walked in with a cup of hot milk and saw the photo. 

He didn’t get jealous. He simply picked it up and turned it over. 

On the back was a date–February 14, 2026. 

It was Valentine’s Day. 

“You were very young then,” Victor said gently. 

“Am I old now?” I asked teasingly. 

“No.” 

Victor placed the photo into the shredder. 

With a soft hum, it was reduced to fragments. 

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. 

“You’re stronger now. Like a flower blooming from ruins.” 

I turned and hugged him. 

Snow began to fall outside the window. 

I thought of that night at Astara Gate. 

The night that was cold, desperate, when I thought I would die. 

If someone had told me then that a year later I would have this kind of warmth, I wouldn’t have believed it. 

But that was how life worked. 

It could break a person, and it could reshape them. 

As long as one didn’t give up in the darkest nights, the dawn would come. 

My phone buzzed. 

It was a news notification. 

“A former senior executive has been detained for disorderly conduct while intoxicated…” 

I dismissed the notification. 

I turned off my phone. 

I turned off the lights. 

In the darkness, Victor’s hand found mine. 

It was warm. 

“Go to sleep.” He said. “Good night, Clara.” 

“Good night.” 

I slept deeply that night. 

There were no explosions, no betrayal, no biting 

wind in my dreams. 

Only warmth, and flowers in bloom.