She could feel it—deep down, she knew she meant something to him.
But then, that look on his face… Melanie could never forget it.
It was cold, colder than she'd ever seen, with a hint of disgust she never expected from him.
He said, "The only reason I took you in was because of the bond between our parents. I treated you well out of pity, nothing more."
"I've never felt anything for you beyond what a brother feels for his sister."
His words were sharp, final, and completely emotionless. Just like that, her last bit of hope crumbled.
She barely remembered how she made it to the company. She walked to the office soaked from the rain, her head pounding, her body weak. In the middle of a meeting, she fainted.
That night, her fever spiked past 39 degrees. She lay alone on a hospital bed, her ears ringing and her vision blurred by darkness.
The noise around her was overwhelming, but one thing was painfully clear: Edwin wasn't there.
It wasn't until a nurse came in and noticed how bad Melanie's fever was that she finally got some meds injected into her.
When she woke up the next morning, her body felt drenched like she'd been boiling in her own skin.
Being sick makes you weak. It makes you crave care—any kind of care.
After hesitating for a long time, she picked up her phone and called Edwin.
"Ed… can you bring me some clothes? Please?"
She hoped he'd come like he used to. But the voice on the other end wasn't his.
It was Maurice.
The clothes? Maurice brought them over. Edwin never showed up.
Maurice smiled warmly. "Edwin's been so busy with work lately. If you need anything, just let me know. I'm your sister-in-law now, you know."
When Melanie was discharged, it wasn't Edwin who came to get her. He sent a driver.
Standing at the hospital's entrance, she looked around. Strangers rushed past and cars whizzed by, but the one person she longed to see wasn't there.
Back at the villa, the emptiness felt suffocating. She sat in the living room all night, waiting.
He didn't come home.
Even now, part of her refused to believe he could be so heartless.
But today, staring at the luggage by the door and the woman walking in like she owned the place, Melanie finally pieced everything together.
The courage she'd held onto for so long was gone, washed away by the rain.
She didn't want to love Edwin anymore.
A sudden knock at the door startled her, making her drop the photo frame in her hands. It hit the floor with a sharp crack, the glass shattering over the picture, blurring the faces in it.
Maurice stood at the door, looking apologetic. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Edwin asked me to bring my stuff to his room. This is his room, right?"
Melanie's heart ached, but she forced herself to smile. "Oh, it's fine. I—I'm just finishing up packing. Sorry to keep you waiting."
This used to be Edwin's room. But because she loved the ocean view and the way the sunlight streamed in the room, he'd let her have it.
Now, it was going back to him.
Maurice nodded. "Take your time. I'll run to the store for some essentials. When Edwin gets back, we can all have dinner together."
She set the suitcase down inside and left.
But as she turned, Melanie noticed something hanging from the suitcase. It was a photo keychain—a picture of Maurice and Edwin, smiling and close in front of Melanie.
Once upon a time, Edwin hated taking pictures. The only photo he and Melanie had ever taken together was one she'd begged him for.
