Chapter 3
Every word the old lady said struck Charles right in the heart, each one hurting more than a thousand cuts.
He stood before the small bungalow, his fingertips tracing the chipped, faded walls. The icy cold he felt was bone-deep, sending a chill straight through him.
He could almost see Evelyn as a young girl, sitting alone in that rain-soaked house, huddled up, gnawing on a dry, hard piece of bread, but her eyes still shining with hope, waiting for him.
He could almost see her, her leg injured and aching, but she gritted her teeth and limped through the rain, just to survive, just to get a little closer to him.
He could almost see her sitting on that stone block, staring at the white camellias, the hope in her eyes slowly worn away by the years, but she never gave up.
He remembered how he'd grown up in luxury, surrounded by people who doted on him, never knowing what hardship felt like.
He remembered how he'd turned a blind eye to everything Evelyn had done for him, never caring about her pain, and time and again, because of Vivian, he'd pushed her further and further away.
He remembered how he'd left Evelyn alone on their wedding day, letting her stepmother humiliate her, making her feel like she was nothing but a substitute.
He remembered how, after he lost his memory, he'd been cold and suspicious toward her, trampling on her true feelings without a second thought.
Guilt and regret washed over Charles like a flood, leaving him gasping for air.
He squatted by the doorway of the small bungalow, hands pressed to his knees, his shoulders trembling violently.
Tears slipped down without warning, falling onto the waterlogged ground and rippling out across the puddles.
He finally realized that Evelyn wasn't born strong, and she wasn't born with that calm, unshakable vibe either.
Her strength was forced out of her by life itself.
Her calmness was worn into her by all the hurt Charles put her through.
Even during her toughest days, she never stopped thinking about him.
But when she finally had him by her side, he kept hurting her, leaving her heart bruised every time.
Charles reached out and gently traced the faint mark on the doorframe.
That was the mark Evelyn had carved, year after year, as she waited for him.
But he'd come too late, and hurt her too deeply.
"Evelyn..." Charles sobbed, groveling on the soaked ground, facing that small bungalow and the land where she'd survived so much pain.
His voice was raw, thick with tears and a kind of heartbreak that felt like it was bleeding out of him. "I'm sorry. I really am. You waited for me all those years, went through so much, but I kept hurting you.
"Where are you? Please, come back. Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Let me love you, let me protect you, and let me take care of you, okay?"
The wind swept through the alley, carrying a fine mist of rain that chilled Charles to the bone, but even that icy cold was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.
He groveled there for what felt like forever, on the ground where Evelyn had suffered as a child, until his body went numb and his voice grew hoarse from calling out for her.
There was only one thought in his mind. He wanted to find Evelyn, do whatever it would take to win her back, and never let go of her again.
*****
In the days that followed, Charles retraced every place Evelyn had been to, planting grove after grove of white camellias in each place she'd been.
Under every camellia, he hid his guilt and longing, along with his heartfelt desire to make it up to Evelyn.
He waited, hoping she'd come back, hoping she'd be willing to give him one more chance.
*****
Three months later, on Southside Lane, a flower shop called Dawn Florist quietly opened for business.
Evelyn had chopped her hair into a crisp, short style, left behind all the elaborate makeup, and now wore simple cotton and linen dresses year-round.
Her fingertips always carried a hint of floral fragrance, and her smile was gentle yet full of quiet strength, but the spark in her eyes had faded.
No one knew she had once been Charles's wife, nor did anyone realize that the cold, ruthless CEO of Rivers Group had been sending people to keep watch outside her shop for thirty-seven days in a row, too afraid to get close.
Charles watched her bend over to arrange the flowers, her fingers pricked by thorns, but she just wiped away the blood with a tissue casually like it was nothing.
He saw her smile gently at her customers, but the sparkle in her eyes that used to shine for him was gone.
He watched her shed all her fragility, becoming someone he'd never known, and someone forever out of his reach.
Charles was drowning in regret, trying to make it up to Evelyn in his own way. He sent the best flowers to her shop, but she returned them untouched.
He transferred three million dollars to her bank account, but she canceled the card without a second thought.
He even opened a café right next to her shop, just so he could catch a glimpse of her, but she ignored him completely.