Chapter 20

Unfortunately, Oliver seemed oblivious to a simple truth. He was lost in a fairytale of his own making, foolishly believing that if he clung tightly enough to the past, he could somehow rekindle Cynthia's love. However, he had overlooked one crucial fact—Cynthia hadn't forgotten. She had moved on instead. "Cynthia," he said gently, eyes full of nostalgia, "do you remember the promise we made under the fig tree?" "That's enough!" Cynthia snapped, cutting him off sharply. "Oliver, I haven't forgotten! Stop dragging me back into those memories over and over again. What's the point of repeating all this ancient history?" She had lost count of the times she'd expressed her frustration, but Oliver clung to their past like a lifeline and like a mantra. He poured it over her like he was trying to brainwash her with their once-passionate love. And when she lashed out, he shrank back like a scolded child, panic flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Cynthia. I'm sorry… I really am…" He apol