Chapter 99: Ashen Heart
She was crouched on the carpet beside the sofa, her chin resting lightly on her knees, her back against the sofa.
From where she sat, she had a direct view of the door.
Clearly, from the moment he'd stepped through the door like a guilty thief, being overly careful, she had seen him.
She'd taken in everything—his fumbling as he took off his clothes, and the undisguised panic on his face the instant he turned around.
She had clearly seen it all, yet she didn't speak up to question him.
Where had he been last night?
Why hadn't he come home all night?
Who had he been with?
Why did he rush to take off his clothes and shower as soon as he got back?
She just maintained that position, looking at him with a calm expression.
Those eyes that had regained their light—whether it was his imagination or not—seemed to hold no light at all now.
James was engulfed by overwhelming panic. He stood frozen in place, unable to move forward or back.
She was too calm, so calm it scared him.
Facing him after he'd been out all night, how could she be so calm?
The calmer she was, the more terrified he became.
He didn't dare go into the bathroom, didn't dare get too close to her, afraid she might smell Amelia's perfume on him.
He carefully took a step forward, calling out to her tentatively, "Mia..."
"Don't come closer."
Her voice was as light as feathers, yet it landed on James's feet like a lead ball, stopping him from taking another step.
Mia looked at James with eyes full of red veins.
Her heart felt dead as ash—that was probably how she felt right now.
Last night, after they'd argued and he left, she'd sat alone by the bay window for a long time.
As the night grew deeper, she tried to sleep, but couldn't.
She threw off the covers and got up, drifting out of the room like a ghost.
She went downstairs and finally chose a spot directly facing the door.
She sat down with her knees drawn up.
She hadn't closed her eyes all night.
She knew it wasn't good for the baby, but she couldn't sleep, she really couldn't.
She was stubbornly waiting.
She didn't even know what she was waiting for.
She'd already seen James kiss Amelia, already knew he'd lied to her, that he and Amelia had long crossed the line beyond friendship.
But there was still a tiny spark of hope struggling inside her, trying to ignite.
That small flame told her that rumors were just rumors after all.
She liked reading gossip too, and gossip was always exaggerated.
Although there was a video, she hadn't actually seen them kissing.
Maybe he hadn't betrayed her after all?
That voice told her to wait for him to come back and ask him properly.
At least she should give him a chance to explain.
Last night they'd both been angry, and said harsh things.
Once their emotions calmed down, they could talk it through properly.
Maybe she really had misunderstood?
She stubbornly cradled that tiny, barely visible spark and sat there waiting all night.
Finally, he came back, and she watched him walk in from outside with a guilty conscience.
Actually, the moment she saw his expression, she already had her answer.
Between them, he had always been the one in control.
Even in their daily interactions, he'd used ways that made her comfortable, not letting her feel like he was above her.
But the gap was still there. The gap in their status meant he always had the upper hand with her, always had that feeling of keeping her firmly in the palm of his hand.
If he'd simply stayed out all night, if he hadn't done anything to wrong her, his attitude wouldn't be like this.
But even though she'd been prepared, actually seeing him take off his clothes and reveal his neck covered in those obvious kiss marks still dealt her a devastating blow.
She watched helplessly as that tiny spark she'd carefully protected all night was ruthlessly extinguished by him.
This was the answer he gave her after she'd stubbornly waited all night.
She'd finally gotten it.
She'd personally held his hand as he delivered the final blow, cutting off the last thread of hope she had for James.
She didn't cry. Her tears seemed to have dried up last night.
It wasn't worth it!
Really not worth it!
Life was just a gamble, and she'd simply lost. What was the big deal!
She was the one who'd been greedy for his tenderness and affection, who'd chosen to give him another chance.
She was the one who'd given him the opportunity to hurt her again.
Now she'd been pushed completely into an endless abyss.
He was the killer, she was the accomplice.
Her own choice—she couldn't blame anyone else.
She'd brought this on herself!
Mia braced herself against the sofa and slowly stood up.
She'd been crouched in the same position for too long, her blood circulation was poor. The moment she stood up and put her feet on the ground,
It felt like stepping on countless needles, needles piercing through flesh and blood, merging into her bloodstream.
Following the flow, stabbing into every part of her body.
It really hurt!
It hurt so much her body swayed unsteadily, and she fell back onto the sofa.
"Mia!"
James watched, his soul shattered, and rushed to her side in a few large steps.
Before his hand could touch Mia, she stopped him mid-air with a look she'd never given him before.
She stared at him intently, struggling to part her lips, and said seriously, "James, I said, don't come closer, don't touch me."
She hadn't slept all night, had cried for most of it. Her voice was hoarse, like it was full of sand.
Every word she spoke carried the tearing pain of reaching the limit.
It wasn't that she didn't want to lose her temper.
It wasn't that she didn't want to question him hysterically.
But the moment she saw those kiss marks, her heart had fallen into an ice cellar and completely frozen.
Toward him, she was completely disappointed.
Questioning him was meaningless now.
Everything was already set in stone, unchangeable.
She and he had finally reached a dead end.
He didn't have her in his heart—she'd swallowed that bitter pill, and no matter how hard it was to swallow, she'd forced herself to get it down.
This was something she'd never insisted on from the start. She'd told herself not to force it, to let things happen naturally.
But at the beginning of their relationship, they'd agreed.
Never betray each other.
If you want to break up, just say it.
She would leave, would let him go.
Just don't betray her.
He clearly knew how much she cared, how disgusted she was, how she couldn't tolerate physical betrayal from her man.
She couldn't tolerate that kind of betrayal.
But he still did it.
Ignoring her feelings, forcing it down her throat, disgusting her.
James looked at Mia. Those eyes of his that could see through people's hearts couldn't understand her at all right now.
He couldn't figure out what she was thinking, and because he couldn't figure it out, he was even more afraid to provoke her.
She wouldn't let him touch her, so he didn't dare reach out again. His gaze stayed fixed on her, his eyes full of her, his voice very soft and apologetic.
Afraid that if his voice was even slightly louder, it would set her off.
"Okay, okay, I won't come near you or touch you. Don't get upset."
James cooperated and stepped back a few paces, standing there in awkward panic.
Mia stopped looking at him. After catching her breath, she braced herself against the sofa again and stood up, lifting her feet to slowly walk upstairs.
She walked very slowly, each step difficult.
Before her eyes was no longer the familiar path upstairs she'd walked many times, but a path covered with sharp blades.
Every step she took was placing herself in that blade formation.
She could see the blades, but she still firmly put her foot down.
The moment her foot landed, she clearly felt pain like her flesh was being carved from her bones.
She was making a final cut with these four years, decisive and firm.
This was a path where, once she'd made up her mind to take that first step, she wouldn't let herself look back.