His words flowed like a stream of empty promises, each one finding a way to shield Ophelia. Dione, too drained to argue over whatever twisted narrative Ophelia had spun, pushed him away with visible disgust before collapsing onto the couch. Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion.
“Fine. No divorce.”
She no longer cared. What difference did it make? Her time was slipping away. Once she chose euthanasia, Cedric would be free, widowed, not divorced, and unburdened to remarry.
Cedric called the family doctor to tend to Dione’s wounds while he quietly set about cleaning the chaos she had left in her wake. She watched him with hollow eyes, unable to reconcile how the man who once adored her with such intensity could now feel like a stranger.
Ophelia’s cruel words echoed in her mind, a relentless torment that sent tremors through her body. Her hands shook uncontrollably as her breathing quickened.
Noticing her distress, Cedric paused mid-cleanup and hurried to retrieve her medication. “Did you forget to take your pills?”