I heard Cyril’s excited voice in the background as she spoke. “Serena, look! The Northern Lights are beautiful. This trip was so worth it!”
When the call ended, my body was drenched in blood, staining half the hospital bed.
I could still remember the twisting pain in my chest as I lay there and died. Even now, the mere memory made it hard to breathe.
Clutching my aching heart, I let out a pale, bitter laugh.
Serena, if my love is such a burden to you, then I’ll never love you again.
That night, Stephanie and I didn’t linger. We went home early.
The next morning, I woke up groggily and reached for my phone to check the time.
But the first thing I saw was a message from Cyril.
He’d sent me a photo of Serena sleeping at his place accompanied with a message.
[Cyril: Serena stayed over at my house last night to keep me company.]
I stared at it without a hint of emotion and then replied with a simple response.
[Me: Oh.]
I didn’t give him much attention, but he wasn’t done.
Soon after, he sent me another photo—this time, it was of breakfast.
[Cyril: Serena made me breakfast this morning. She even cooked heart-shaped eggs just for me.]
Serena had never stepped foot in the kitchen when we were together.