“I wanted to die,” she said.
His ruby-like eyes flickered—a barely noticeable tremor. It was just a fleeting moment, but she caught it, her gaze locked desperately onto his. Her own reflection shone in his crimson irises. Her face was a portrait of despair, her disheveled hair reflecting the turmoil within her heart.
She caressed his rigid cheek. “If you hadn’t come back, I would have died. I could never forgive myself…”
Haunting images flashed before her eyes—the sight of him collapsing with the desert sun behind him, his lifeless eyes, blood soaking into the sand, and the terrifyingly desolate snowfield. Every moment without him had been a living hell. The scars of that fleeting loss were still raw, aching with every breath she took.
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt like that. I’m nothing but a burden to you. Even now, in this moment…”
