When There Is Nothing Left But Love

I didn’t have the courage to die because I was scared of the pain, be it slicing wrists or jumping off a building.

The fear of pain made me a cowardly person.

His face sank. “Scarlett, this is the last time. If you’d rather hurt yourself than get revenge, then I’m done. Whether you live or die will have nothing to do with me.”

I lifted my hand to grab his arm, apologizing in a hoarse voice, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have let my emotions take control of me!”

The fact was, I couldn’t bring myself to die just like that.

Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he sighed and placed my hand underneath the blanket before saying, “Don’t do anything stupid again. You have a long way ahead of you. Take things slowly and you’ll be fine.”

I nodded and fell into a daze with my eyes fixated on the ceiling. Why couldn’t I run Ashton over? Why wasn’t I brave enough?

Sleep took over me once again, and it was already midnight by the time I woke up.

The moment I opened my eyes, I locked gazes with the man I was supposed to meet in the afterlife.

As usual, Ashton was clad in a black tailored suit. Perhaps because the heater was turned on, he took off his coat, revealing the impeccably ironed white shirt, which was completely befitting of his personality.

“You’re awake.” He came forward and looked at me with an unreadable glint in his eyes.

He was the last person I wanted to see, so I shut my eyes.

anywhere?” he

to

you like some

my hand throbbed with a dull pain. I’d had too many infusions in the past two months, so the bruise on the

started to

a sudden, causing my eyes to fly wide open

stared unflinchingly at it but didn’t react for a

told, holding the glass was a rather difficult task with the needle stuck into my hand. Ashton’s eyes were filled with pain as he looked

eyes, the glass in my hand unexpectedly slipped out of my grasp. The glass shattered upon coming in contact with the floor, the loud noise reverberating through

With a faint smile

was unfeeling and had

a tensed voice, “It’s fine.” Then, he crouched

he spoke again, “Do you still want some water? I’ll pour

tremble in his hands, the chill in my

it?” I knew

appeared, I had noticed the

that mattered to me—knowing that

he slowly

sneered, “Mr. Fuller, do you think a quick death is better or a slow

he was feeling clearly displayed

frustrated and pulled out the drip needle on the back