Chapter 23
Five days later, Blake received his deployment notice.
Just before he left, he handed me a bottle of wine and said, “I made this myself. You’re only allowed one small glass a day. When you finish it, that’s
when I’ll be back.”
I rolled my eyes. “One small glass? That won’t last me a week. What if I run out before you return?”
He leaned in, resting his forehead gently against mine. His voice was serious, tender.
“Little drunkard, then I promise–I’ll be back before the bottle runs dry.”
I nodded, watching his figure disappear into the crowd as my heart quietly began its countdown.
A little over a month later came the day of Lillian’s execution.
The Ministry of Justice contacted me. She had submitted a final visitation request.
I didn’t want to see her. But they assured me she was no threat–detained, restrained, and monitored. I agreed.
She was being held in the women’s wing of the prison–cold, damp, underground. The air reeked of rust and mildew. I didn’t expect her to look like
that.
Once elegant and polished, she now looked like a ghost. Her hair was wild, her skin grayish. She looked like someone dragged out of a dumpster. A guard explained:
“She got pregnant a while back, but with the poor conditions and stress, she miscarried. Her mental state spiraled fast after that. Today was the first day she snapped back and insisted on seeing you.”
I stood outside the cell, watching her.
“Lillian. What do you still want?”
She’d been huddled in a corner, but at the sound of my voice, she jerked her head up and charged at the bars like she’d been electrocuted. Her eyes were bloodshot, voice shrill.
“This is all your fault! You stole Adrian! You ruined everything! Did you come back too?! You knew he was all I had! Why couldn’t you just stay away?!”
“I lost everything! My father disowned me, my stepmother mocks/me, and Adrian–he died for you! Twice! You’re a spoiled little heiress, you have everything! Why did you have to take him too?!”
She screamed and sobbed, completely unhinged.
The seductive, pampered Lillian I once knew was long gone. All that was left was a hollow, broken shell, torn apart by her own hate.
I listened. But I didn’t answer.
Yes, she had lived a hard life. But she chose the ugliest way to fight back against the world–and that was on her.
The next afternoon, Lillian was executed by law.
They said she cried for a long time at the end. Said she claimed she regretted everything.
But none of that changed a thing.
I never visited again. When a person dies, their story ends.
The days after, I did only one thing: I waited for Blake.
By the end of the first month, I’d drunk almost all the wine he left. I was tipsy most days, with only a few drops left at the bottom of the bottle. I couldn’t bring myself to finish it.
In the third month, no word. Just reports that his mission was unusually difficult.
Wour Ho’s Regging
16.2%
Chapter 23
By the fourth, I asked my father for any news. He only shook his head. “Nothing’s confirmed yet?
In the fifth month, I finally heard someone say they’d sent a second team to the war zone.
That froze me completely.
t
Every day, I kept my windows open, waiting.
But there was no good news. No word from Blake.
I started to regret not going with him. Even as a field reporter, a civilian advisor–anything. I would’ve gone. Even if it meant dying by his side.
One night, I fell asleep at my desk.
When I woke, I realized I wasn’t slumped over my notebook–I was lying in someone’s arms.
My heart stopped. Then tears rushed to my eyes.
I spun around–and saw the face I’d been dreaming of for months.
“You’re finally awake,” Blake murmured, smiling lazily. “Miss Wineglass, I’m back. Ready to drink with you for the rest of our lives.”
I didn’t even care about his terrible joke. I just threw myself into his arms, held him tight, and let my tears soak through his shirt.
“You really came back… Blake…”
He hugged me with the same warm strength, whispering softly in my ear.
“I’m home, Evelyn.”
