Each meaningful photo—whether a picture of them together or one of his solo shots—had been carefully pasted inside, along with his loving messages. For three years, it had been filled with memories, each page a testament to their love. But it stopped abruptly half a month ago.
Abigail flipped through the pages slowly, each word he had written, each image, now weighed heavily on her heart. The love they had shared seemed to have faded, replaced by this cold reality. Her mind wandered back to what Gabriella had said to her at the banquet.
In truth, Gabriella’s words were not entirely unfounded. Abigail found herself hesitating, questioning whether her persistence still held any meaning.
Is he really still the same person?
She had grown accustomed to Sebastian’s late nights, a change that both shocked and numbed her. Was it really that easy to develop a habit? And just as easily, could she forget it all?
The day Gabriella brought Sebastian back, Abigail was in the flower house, watering the plants. This space hadn’t been there before—Sebastian had built it for her after noticing how much she loved flowers.