Chapter 800


    Bradley tenderly caressed Esther''s beautiful face in the photographs. His fervent wish was for her to be


    alive, to continue living. He was willing to sacrifice everything for her survival.


    Among these photos and discsy relics of Esther''s deep affection and her concealed infatuation. Her


    gaze perpetually followed him, seeing in him a radiant sun that would never set.


    With his aching heart tightly gripped, Bradley examined the photos before him. Almost as if seeking


    pain, he opened another box with Esther''s photographic creations. Back then, she had cherished him


    dearly, capturing his essence through her lens.


    Under Esther''s artistic eye, Bradley possessed a distinctive handsomeness. Even in moments he


    couldn''t recall, she had faithfully documented them.


    There were also Esther''s paintings, each prominently featuring Bradley. It was only now that Bradley


    realized this storage room held not the things he wished to obliterate but Esther''s first love.


    She had given her all and loved him unconditionally. Yet, he had sent her to prison, severing their


    connection. The five years of wrongful incarceration had cost Bradley the girl who once adored him as


    if he were her entire world.


    Bradley sat atop a box, weakened as he gazed at the paintings and photos in his hands. Tears welled


    up, blurring his vision. His heart raced like a drumbeat.


    His world had abruptly turned deste.


    Sweat trickled from Bradley''s forehead. He persevered through his pain, sifting through the boxes and


    uncovering a variety of items. There were scarves, hats, and gloves hand-knitted by Esther. Among


    them were y artworks, two y dolls locked in an eternal heart-shaped embrace.


    Bradley remembered pushing away the gift box impatiently when Esther had offered the dolls. The y


    figures had tumbled to the ground, shattering, but Esther had painstakingly glued their broken hands


    back together.


    In addition to the y dolls, there were Esther''s cross-stitch creations. Each discovery felt like a dagger


    piercing his heart.


    Every item in this room told a story.


    In that narrative, Bradley remained disgusted, indifferent, and impatient from start to finish. The girl


    named Esther had given him her heartfelt devotion, and his greatest cruelty wasn''t merely neglecting


    her but repeatedly trampling on her affections.


    The pain coursed through Bradley''s body. Every nerve tortured him. His vision dimmed, and he


    copsed to the floor. Yet, as he fell, he clung tightly to the wedding photograph of himself and Esther.Exclusive ? material by N?(/v)elDrama.Org.