It was not longing. It was humanity.
No matter what Eleanor had done, he could not ignore the image of blood staining her skin.
'If she truly did this because of me…'
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
'If she falls into the abyss because I refused to forgive her… I will never forgive myself either.'
By the time the car arrived at the location, Theodore's pulse was still racing.
The so-called grand mansion stood before him, but it was not the extravagant palace its name suggested.
It was a private villa, modest and quiet, with only two floors and pale walls illuminated by dim outdoor lights.
The place was strangely peaceful, almost deceptively so.
As he stepped out of the car, a strange familiarity washed over him.
'I've… been here before?'
The thought unsettled him.
If he had not become a well-known actor, if he had remained a struggling artist, he could imagine himself living somewhere like this.
