Urban Romance

Lynette had barely left when Zachary returned. He had just stepped inside when his phone rang—Charmaine, claiming chest discomfort again.

Without hesitation, Zachary changed clothes and made ready to leave. Passing Lynette's room, he noticed the door ajar. He frowned with a flash of irritation. She was an adult; how could she be so careless as to sleep with her door open?

Recalling her bad mood earlier, he considered checking on her. But Charmaine's call came again. With a sigh, he stepped back, closed the door, and went downstairs.

At the front door, his gaze fell on the small tree he and Lynette had planted together. It lay toppled on the ground. His chest tightened. It had been fine during the day. How had it fallen overnight?

A bad feeling gnawed at him. He glanced up toward Lynette's room, telling himself he needed to find time for a proper talk.

By the time he arrived at Charm

Charmaine's heart sank, her eyes reddening. "Zachary, are you tired of me? Do you think I'm a burden?"

Zachary felt a wave of irritation. For three years, every time he tried to draw a line, Charmaine would say things like this. To avoid her spiraling, he had always backed down, leaving things unsaid.

But the memory of Lynette's shattered expression that night weighed on him. He didn't want to keep hurting her.

He drew a breath. "Charmaine, I'm not sick of you. Stop twisting my words. I just think you should pursue your own happiness. I won't be eating dinner with you. Given our past, it's not appropriate for us to share a romantic meal like this."

With that, Zachary stood up and left. Behind him, the sound of smashing echoed through the door. In the past, he would have gone back. This time, he didn't even turn his head.

Three years of atonement were enough.

That night, Zachary did

William stood silently until Lynette's sobs subsided. "Nettie, I don't blame you. This is fate. Don't hurt yourself anymore. It breaks me to see you like this."

His gaze fell on the wounds carved into her wrists, and his eyes reddened instantly.

Lynette could not speak through her tears. The man who claimed to love her had never noticed her injuries. Yet her father, whom she hadn't seen in three years, saw them at once.

Indeed, true love could be felt without words.

William crouched down and embraced her. "A Sterling knows when to hold on and when to let go. If you're unhappy, leave him. I don't want to be the reason you're stuck with him."

Through sobs, Lynette nodded. "Okay. I'll leave him and live well."

Three days remained until the waiting period concluded. With the issuance of the divorce certificate, Lynette and Zachary's bond would be severed for good. But she never expected that the moment she left, William would take his own life. 

Before his death, he had entrusted someone with a final message for her. 

"Nettie, I know how hard you worked to clear my name, and how much you suffered for me. I love you. I don't want to be your burden. From now on, be free like a bird. Spread your wings and fly."

Lynette collapsed, her body wracked with painful sobs until she was utterly spent. When the tears finally stopped, she forced a steely resolve and made the arrangements for William's funeral. 

Returning home exhausted, she was confronted by a living room overrun with shopping bags—all of them Charmaine's. 

Zachary saw her broken expression, guilt flickering briefly across his face. "Nettie, I'm sorry. Charmaine had a depressive episode, so I took her out for a bit. As for William's case, I'll think of another way."

Lynette simply stared at him silently. They had played out this scene countless times before, always ending the same way. She no longer needed his empty promises. 

Seeing her lack of reaction, Zachary brought out the roses he had prepared. "I bought your favorite flowers, Nettie. Cheer up. Don't be sad."

The roses were beautiful. But Zachary had forgotten that she didn't like roses. She liked garden roses. Roses were Charmaine's favorite. 

Lynette felt she understood him less and less with each passing day. But none of it mattered anymore. Tomorrow, she would leave. She could finally say goodbye to all these rotten people and rotten things.

She accepted the flowers and said politely, "Thank you."

Zachary watched her frail figure ascend the stairs, unease gnawing at him. "Nettie, once Charmaine is better, I'll go with you to visit William."

Lynette smiled. "No need. Dad said he wants peace and quiet."

William was already gone. She would preserve that peace for him.

William's only wish was for Lynette to live well. And she would—by leaving Zachary. 

The choice had always been his; he was the one who had pushed her away. 

Upstairs, Lynette began packing her things. Then her phone buzzed with a message from Charmaine. It was an audio recording of a conversation between her and Zachary.

Charmaine's voice chimed in first. "Zachary, today is William's second appeal. You really don't need to go?"

Then came Zachary's weary reply. "The case was closed years ago. What's there to fight? I was still figuring out how to get out of it. Luckily, you gave me the perfect excuse.

"Nettie keeps fussing about divorce. If I hadn't pretended to agree, who knows how long she would have kept bringing it up. Before, I could talk her out of it. But now, every time I see her like that, I get annoyed."

Lynette's tears soaked her collar. So this was how he truly felt.

That night, Zachary left again. Charmaine was unwell, and he went to stay with her.

Lynette placed the divorce certificate and the evidence of Charmaine's confession on the vanity table. The evidence had been delivered to her after William's death by a hotel cleaning staff member who had been working that fateful night. 

The woman had initially wanted to stay out of trouble, but years of guilt eventually overpowered her fear, leading her to contact Lynette. 

However, it was too late; William was gone, forever denied the exoneration that would have freed him. 

Dragging her suitcase out of the villa, Lynette erased every trace of herself. At the door, she picked up an axe and chopped down the small tree she and Zachary had once planted together.

"Zachary Wright, this time, I'm setting you free. I won't bother you ever again. Our marriage ends here. From now on, I only know you as the man who killed my father."

Lynette had barely left when Zachary returned. He had just stepped inside when his phone rang—Charmaine, claiming chest discomfort again.

Without hesitation, Zachary changed clothes and made ready to leave. Passing Lynette's room, he noticed the door ajar. He frowned with a flash of irritation. She was an adult; how could she be so careless as to sleep with her door open?

Recalling her bad mood earlier, he considered checking on her. But Charmaine's call came again. With a sigh, he stepped back, closed the door, and went downstairs.

At the front door, his gaze fell on the small tree he and Lynette had planted together. It lay toppled on the ground. His chest tightened. It had been fine during the day. How had it fallen overnight?

A bad feeling gnawed at him. He glanced up toward Lynette's room, telling himself he needed to find time for a proper talk.

By the time he arrived at Charmaine's place, she had prepared a candlelit dinner.

When Zachary opened the door and saw the table f

Chapter 8