Chapter 22

The next morning, as the villa's door opened, Connor instinctively ducked into the nearby bushes. Through the dense greenery, he saw Tyler shielding Emelie from the rain with an umbrella. A sweet smile graced her face as she nestled tightly in his arms. Their intimacy left no room for anyone else. A crushing sense of inferiority overwhelmed Connor, making him feel utterly unworthy.

He emerged from the bushes long after their car disappeared. He couldn't tell if the wetness at the corners of his eyes was from tears or rain. The downpour washed away the clinging leaves, leaving no trace of his presence.

That evening, Emelie found a box containing an emerald bangle at her door. A sticky note was attached, scrawled in hurried handwriting:

“I’m sorry. Consider this an apology. If I could do it all over again, I would have bid for your parents’ belongings. I wish you happiness. I won’t bother you anymore. —Connor”

Emelie stood frozen, then picked up the box and turned to Tyler. “Why aren’t you opening the door?”

They stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them. In the bushes, Connor’s face was streaked with tears. “Is this the only way I can apologize? The first half of my note was true; the second half, a lie. I can’t let go of you, Emelie. I can’t sincerely wish you happiness. But if this makes you happy, I’ll do it.”

His voice was swallowed by the wind, unheard save by himself. He had loved her for so many years. How could a few words erase that? His love was genuine, as were his mistakes and the hurt he had caused. Unable to earn her forgiveness, he’d resorted to this humble gesture for a semblance of peace.

Even Connor didn't know how he’d eventually left. Back home, he packed his bags. As he was leaving, Anthony blocked his path. “Where are you going, Connor?” he asked, frowning.

Connor’s expression remained indifferent. “To the club. I’m starting intensive training for the next competition. I’m not as young as I used to be. If I want to win, I need to push harder.”

He wheeled his suitcase out the door without looking back. Anthony stood stunned, a strange emptiness settling over the house. There were things he hadn’t said to Connor, but it was too late. He watched Connor disappear into a car.

Examining the evidence in his hands, Anthony’s face darkened, radiating an oppressive energy. As he re-entered the house, Melissa pressed against him. His expression turned cold, though he skillfully masked it as he sidestepped her touch.

“Anthony, Connor left so suddenly! Do you think something’s wrong?” she asked.

Anthony gazed at her with probing eyes, seeking to penetrate her feigned concern. At that moment, Marcelo emerged, casually twirling his phone. “You’re worried about Connor? Maybe you should start worrying about yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” Melissa suppressed her rising panic, forcing a smile.