Chapter 8
After a long silence, Madeleine finally spoke again, but she didn’t answer Sullivan’s question. She said, “Sorry, I thought you’d like it.” Alas, her apology ended up being the last straw that made Sullivan’s anger blaze in all its glory.
“Why are you always so presumptuous?” he said icily before leaving the bedroom.
Watching him leave, Madeleine got a faint idea of what was happening. It made sense. He was still her boyfriend; being a principled man, he wouldn’t get intimately involved with Isabel at this point, no matter how much he liked her. Thankfully, everything would come to an end in just three days.
Since the day was fast approaching, Madeleine gathered everything in the villa related to Sullivan and got rid of them, either by trashing or burning the items. She dug out everything from the photos she took of Sullivan during his debate competitions back in college to the couple-themed household items—including mugs, slippers, and pajama sets—that she bought for him. There was also the rosary she had gotten for him that had been blessed by a priest. All of these things bore witness to her love for him.
The last things to go into the fire were the love letters Madeleine had written for Sullivan. As she threw them in one by one, she couldn’t help but recall the past. Initially, Madeleine had pursued Sullivan normally. She spent three whole months writing 99 love letters for him, but he had rejected every single one. It was only when she noticed he was having trouble due to Naomi’s medical bills that she eventually came up with the idea of setting up a mutually beneficial agreement—one that would allow him to accept her help while also ensuring that she got what she wanted.
Maybe she had truly made a mistake. Love couldn’t be bought with money. According to the novel, the only person Sullivan loved was Isabel, his female protagonist.
Once this thought occurred to Madeleine, she stopped reminiscing about the past and tossed the final love letter into the fire.
Just then, the door opened, and Sullivan came home. He immediately saw the colorful envelope Madeleine had just thrown into the fire. Despite never checking its contents, he was extremely familiar with the envelope. It was one of the love letters she had given him in the past, all of which he had refused to accept.
Sullivan felt his heart miss a beat. Without thinking, he blurted out, “What are you doing?”
Madeleine was a little boggled to see the dazed look on Sullivan’s face, but she replied, “I’m getting rid of some unnecessary things. There’s no reason to keep these around any longer, so I burned them.”
Sullivan felt a sense of unease. He could sense the change in Madeleine in recent days. Her behavior had been rather strange, too. Yet, even though he didn’t want to argue with her, the words that escaped his lips were impossibly harsh: “That makes sense. You’ve gotten what you wanted, so those things aren’t necessary anymore.”
It wasn’t his first time mocking Madeleine. In the past, she would always feel upset, but this time, she felt nothing.
“It would all be over soon,” she mumbled.
Sullivan was perplexed. He couldn’t make head or tail of what she had just said, and he had no clue what she was up to this time. Ignoring her and the things she was burning, he went straight upstairs to the study.
Madeleine continued to sit there, unmoving. She watched as the final love letter was slowly reduced to ashes. Eventually, the fire died out.
She thought to herself, “Sullivan, from now on, forget about those initiating memories. Forget about me, the female antagonist. Let’s both have a fresh start.”