Chapter 462
Joy faded into endless emptiness.
The password remained unchanged—perhaps just force of habit.
He once believed himself to be the one who knew her best. Now, that confidence lay shattered.
He didn’t even have the right to understand her anymore.
The smiling faces of Ethan and Luna surfaced in his mind, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly. After years navigating the ruthless tides of business, he never claimed to be a gentleman. But now, he wanted to be shameless—just this once.
To use their children to keep her.
A self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening on the screen.
While working, he inexplicably opened her email history.
They were both sentimental. The email accounts from their student days were still in use, even for work correspondence.
Ever since she moved out of the villa, he had drowned himself in memories. Her diary lay by his pillow, and he couldn’t sleep without reading a few pages. By now, he had memorized every word, yet he still revisited it nightly.
The emails offered new solace. Their exchanges traced the arc of their love—from youthful innocence to burning passion, then to ruin.
He scrolled backward. The first one that caught his eye was her desperate plea for help.
"Are you there? Emergency! I haven’t finished tomorrow’s assignment—please send answers! I promise I’ll do it myself next time!"
Just a few lines, but her panic from back then leaped off the screen.
His lips curved unconsciously. He clicked on his reply—the attachment had expired, but it reminded him of that frantic afternoon. To spare her from reprimand, he’d spent three hours scanning the test papers.
Later, they grew wiser. Doing homework together was more efficient—and gave them an excuse to stay close.
The next email was her whining for late-night snacks.
"Mom and Dad keep saying street food is dirty, but it’s so good! Bring me grilled squid when you pick me up tonight—the stall by the park entrance, extra sauce! Love you~"
During their honeymoon phase, the emails were endless. Dozens in a single night. Who would’ve thought two top students would treat email like texting, their combined word count surpassing any essay?
His fingertips brushed the screen, as if he could reach through time and touch her younger self.
Happiness was always fleeting. Further down, the emails grew sparse. Misunderstandings piled up, and distance seeped into every word.
He opened his own inbox to compare, then froze—remembering the foolish thing he’d done.
In the arrogance of youth, he’d deleted every email connected to her, believing it would erase the memories.
"Turns out I was even stupider back then," he muttered, closing the tab with a bitter smile.
His inbox was packed, expanded twice yet still constantly full. But in that ocean of data, her traces had vanished.
At least fate granted him this chance to reread her old messages. He took a deep breath and opened her final emails.
"Adrian, please reply. Your phone’s off—just give me one chance to explain."
"It’s really important. Come home. If you don’t, I’ll keep waiting."
"I never thought we’d end like this. Even if it’s over, tell me to my face."
She’d sent countless emails, even read receipts. But he never knew—he’d deleted every one unread.
Blinded by rage, he missed her final, desperate message. Just three words:
"Please."