Time crawled as Jack waited, his mind racing.
When Zack finally called back, there was hesitation in his voice.
“Mr. Sterling, the ‘Freya’ necklace has already been sold… to an international collector. We were just a bit too late…”
Thud.
The phone slipped from Jack’s hand, crashing onto the floor. The screen shattered into countless fragments, but he didn’t care.
Just a little too late. How could this happen?
The ‘Freya’ necklace symbolized his love for her.
She had sold it once.
How could she bear to sell it again?
Did his love mean so little to her?
He lowered his gaze, his expression drowning in sorrow and despair, his entire being shrouded in anguish.
Even the ‘Freya’ necklace now belonged to someone else.
And what about her?
Would she belong to someone else too?
The thought was unbearable, a possibility Jack couldn’t even begin to fathom. It was a nightmare threatening to destroy what little resolve he had left.
From the very first moment Jack laid eyes on Freya, he had known she was the one. He wanted to spend his entire life with her.
He had envisioned countless futures for them, each ending with happiness and love.
So how had they ended up like this?
He loathed himself, but his hatred for Lily burned even brighter.
If Lily had never entered the picture, would everything have been different?
Jack sat alone in the empty house, consumed by loneliness and regret.
His gaze fell on the trash can, where the box of cream puffs Freya hadn’t touched still lay. He carefully retrieved it, treating it as though it were a priceless treasure.
The cream puffs were cold and stale, their sweetness long gone.
But to him, they were precious.
“She didn’t even take a single bite,” he thought.
As he placed the box gently on the table, his eyes caught something else in the trash—a phone SIM card.
His heart skipped a beat as he reached for it, recognizing it as Freya’s.
Cleaning it with careful precision, he inserted the card into his own phone, as if doing so might bring her back to him, as if it might somehow let him hear her voice again.
The screen lit up.
A message popped up from a familiar number, and his blood ran cold as he read the text: “Freya, Jack loves me the most. Did you really think selling the ‘Freya’ necklace would make him come back to you? You know what? We were just tangled up on that bed earlier today!”
