Chapter 84: Tell Me
A week had passed, and Naomi hadn’t seen Zylan since that night. She stood quietly in front of the garden, her gaze fixed on a sunflower swaying gently in the breeze. The stillness of the garden mirrored the apathy clouding her mood—distant and unfeeling. Every morning, this had become her routine: stepping into the garden, observing the flowers, walking aimlessly, asking Rylan a few questions, watering the plants, and then retreating back to her room. The rhythm was monotonous, her only escape from the storm of memories threatening to consume her.
Sleep had become her sanctuary, albeit a fragile one. But no matter how hard she tried to bury herself in slumber, her mind betrayed her the moment her eyes closed. The words she had spoken to Zylan echoed endlessly in her thoughts, a mantra of regret. I hate you.
Her lips trembled as she bit down hard, the sting grounding her in the cruel reality of what she had said. How could she have been so cold? So unkind? The guilt festered inside her like a wound, raw and aching. She pressed her palms against her chest, willing the pain to ease, but it lingered—a constant reminder of her mistake. Despite everything, all she truly wanted now was to see him again, to know he was safe.
The rustling of leaves broke her trance, and she blinked, returning to the present. The garden’s peaceful atmosphere seemed almost mocking. She reached out, brushing her fingers against the sunflower’s soft petals, wishing she could feel anything but this emptiness.
Her reverie was interrupted by a soft voice.
"Mrs Naomi, would you like some tea?" Rhea asked gently, her tone laced with concern.
Naomi shook her head without looking up. "I’m fine, Rhea. Thank you."
Rhea hesitated, her eyes scanning Naomi’s pale features before stepping back. "Alright," she said quietly, though her concern lingered in the air.
It had become the norm—Naomi always needed space, and the household had learned to respect that. But even solitude didn’t bring her peace.
Moments later, Rylan arrived, his usual composed demeanor slightly flustered.
"Miss Naomi," he said, his voice steady despite the unease flickering in his eyes, "it seems we have a visitor."