Chapter 445 That Night Never Happened
The light began to collapse, emitting a soft glow that slowly faded. Like a thin sheet of false dawn being gradually unveiled, the small world that had become a place of confession and embrace the night before began to lose its shape, as if being sucked into uncertainty. The once warm floor now felt cold, like the reach of hands that had once been comforting and warming, now leaving only bitter air. The calm air shifted towards emptiness, becoming a terrifying silence, as if the voices of hope vanished into the darkness, adding to the profound loneliness that enveloped Fitran.
And the figure beside Fitran... slowly faded, presenting a shadow that grew increasingly elusive.
Rinoa.
But this time, she was not asleep. Not smiling. She simply stared at Fitran with eyes that held no soul—eyes that knew a truth that could not be spoken, hinting at a sorrow deeper than mere loss; that sorrow emphasized the heavy burden that Fitran's heart bore. Fitran's heart trembled, as if a part of her was dissolving into that sorrowful silence, waiting for something that would never come, trapped in the time that separated them and carving an indelible sadness.
"Enough," she said, her voice barely ringing in the silence.
Fitran grasped her hand, feeling the gentle warmth that still lingered, as if she were holding light in the midst of darkness.
She was still warm. Still there.
"Rinoa... we—"
"—never spoke," she gently interrupted, her voice trembling like leaves touched by the wind.
"There was never that night. There were never those words."
"No... I said it. I set you free."