Seraphine’s throat tightened as she traced the edge of the final page. The weight of broken promises crushed her momentarily, but she inhaled deeply and closed the album. Those memories no longer belonged to her; they were relics of a gilded lie.
Gripping the album, she headed downstairs to the garden courtyard. The cool night air was bracing, the distant hum of the city a reminder that life moved on. She knelt by the old firepit, striking a match with steady hands.
The first photo curled as the flames took hold, the fire consuming the pages eagerly. Years of memories turned to ash, their significance evaporating into the night air.
She didn’t flinch when a sharp voice broke through the crackling fire.
“Seraphine!”
Luther’s footsteps pounded against the stone as he rushed toward her, his eyes widening in panic as he took in the flames. He lunged forward, attempting to salvage the album, but the heat forced him back.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice shaking. He turned to her, fury etched across his face. “Are you insane? These were ours! Everything we built, everything we shared—gone because of you!”
Seraphine didn’t move, her expression unreadable. “Ours?” she echoed, her voice sharp and cold. “Do you mean the years I spent waiting for you to keep your promises? Or the ones where you made it clear I was just an afterthought?”
Luther froze, his anger faltering. “You don’t understand,” he began, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “I was trying to protect us—”
“Protect us?” Seraphine interrupted, her words cutting like a blade. “Was that what you were doing when you made her the center of your world? When you left me in the shadows while you built a new life right in front of me? Don’t insult me, Luther.”
The fire crackled as the last of the album turned to ash. Luther’s shoulders sagged as he stared at the remains, his carefully controlled facade cracking.
“She means nothing to me,” he said, his voice low. “Cornelia is just...a distraction. You’ve always been the one I—”
A bitter laugh escaped Seraphine’s lips, silencing him. “A distraction? Is that supposed to make me feel better? You humiliated me, Luther. You don’t get to rewrite the story just because it suits you now.”
He reached for her, desperation evident in his trembling hand, but she stepped back, her gaze colder than the night air.