Jessica opened the door and stepped out.

Timothy was on the phone. The moment he saw her, he ended the call without hesitation.

"Changed your mind?" he asked.

"I'll agree to stay here for a week," Jessica replied, her voice steady. "But I want my bag back."

He'd told her that as long as she stayed with him for this one week, she could do whatever she wanted. Only when she left this island would she have a real

chance to get away.

Timothy said nothing.

She had to press on. "You can keep my ID and passport if you're that paranoid. But I need my bag. Give it back."

Timothy didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the dressing room and came out carrying a brand-new designer bag.

"If you want to carry a bag, I bought you a new one."

Jessica stared at the bag in his hand, its price tag probably enough to buy a small house, her brow furrowing in frustration.

She reached out and took it.

That seemed to please Timothy, a faint smile touching his lips.

In the next instant, she hurled the bag at his chest, her anger barely contained.

"I want my bag. Can't you understand? If you expect me to spend this week with you without losing my mind, then do as I say!"

She was on the verge of breaking down.

How could she have fallen in love with a man like this?

Learning that he'd almost married Sheila, that Sheila was the one he truly loved- those revelations had cut her deeply, but even then, she'd never lost control like this.

For seven years, she'd willingly trapped herself in this love, giving him her whole life.

But now, being manipulated like this, she was coming apart at the seams.

She couldn't calm herself. Despair burned in her eyes as she glared at him. "Do you realize I could die?"

Tears welled up, stinging her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Her emotions were rawer than ever, and Timothy felt as if an invisible rope was tightening around his heart.

understand what she

soothe her. "I didn't bring your bag.

Jessica felt hollow, defeated.

his air of refinement so out of reach. All his

understood a single

bag. She wanted

she needed-something that

slowly backing away from him, step by

then: when pain reached

limit, all she wanted

state sent Timothy

forward, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her into his arms and holding her

"Jessy, don't scare me."

warm as he stroked her

bag, I'll send

How laughable.

rather send someone else than let her leave,

Jessica shoved him away.

don't want it

"Timothy."

stay with

to go,

you want, I'll

fight. I

were empty now, stripped of all

Seven years, or forever. It's

didn't know yet-why only seven

was running out for

given a death sentence-only six months

If she

heat she could be

Lovelet

But the new her would have no place for in

She agreed.

a night for her to give

Timothy felt no joy, not even for a

veins were

cut into flesh.

to remain calm, pushing down the fear clawing

as she

decided to go

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