When he was drunk, I cared for him; he had no complaints, just a quiet presence.
When he wanted to travel alone with his brothers, I’d organize everything, buying tickets and planning the whole trip.
Even when he handed me his phone without hesitation, I never once thought to check it.
I loved him and feared repeating the tragedy of my mother, whose controlling nature had driven my father away.
I thought I had always kept the balance right between us.
At least, that’s what I believed before this incident, when everything seemed perfect, our relationship burning bright with passion.
But now, it hit me: my love had suffocated him.
So, was this the real reason he pretended to be sick, seeking some kind of thrill?
When our eyes locked, there was nothing left of the affection I had once seen.
The question that almost slipped from my lips was swallowed by silence, heavy and suffocating.
Sebastian, noticing my gaze, furrowed his brow, his impatience evident.
He snatched a lily from one of his brothers and shoved it into my arms with forced finality.
"Enough, stop pretending to be so virtuous. Take the flowers and leave!"