Faded Love

Everyone in Imperium knew that I was James's devoted admirer. I was his devoted admirer for 10 years. But I didn’t care. Was it wrong to love someone wholeheartedly? No. He knew my obsession with him.To make me give up, he brought back a girlfriend. When James was away, I paid that woman to leave him. However, she told me that with James, there was endless money. My little offer meant nothing to her. In the end, it turned into a scene of her tumbling down the stairs. James happened to witness it. He sent me to rehab, claiming I had a split personality.I left rehab three years later.As soon as I stepped out, I saw an Audi parked there, looking out of place.I glanced at it and was about to leave when someone called me. It was James. He looked more mature than three years ago. But I only took a quick look. My teacher said that staring at someone was impolite, especially if it was someone you like. Yes, it had been three years. I had been thoroughly brainwashed.

He didn't say a word and closed the door, locking me inside. I couldn’t get out because there was a password. He then went to take a shower. He must have felt uncomfortable after seeing those creatures. I sat obediently in the living room. About an hour later, James came downstairs. He was in his pajamas, his hair still damp. I knew to avoid looking at him. "You can move into that house after it's cleaned up. You can stay here for tonight," explained James. I thought for a moment and nodded, thanking him. That house was large, and I would probably still be cleaning it well into the night. He walked over, and I stood up, feeling like a servant standing to the side. James pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Have you quit?" A hint of curiosity appeared on his face. Without hesitation, I nodded. Any hesitation would be a disrespect to my three years in rehab. That night, I had a nightmare. There were countless pairs of eyes. Hatred

But I had already finished my meal, while James had only taken a couple of bites. I was used to it. James slept in my room while I slept in my grandfather's room. In the middle of the night, I felt a burning pain in my knees and back. My head was also spinning. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a white ceiling and smelled strong disinfectant. I didn't think about why I was there. I just knew I was going to be late for work, and on my first day. I tiptoed to put on my shoes, afraid of waking James, who was still asleep. "Where are you going?" As I reached the door, James's sleepy voice called out. "I found a job and I'm going to be late," I replied honestly. "Don’t you know you have a fever?" James seemed somewhat displeased. Was it because I got sick and he had to pay for my medical expenses? "Don't worry, Mr. Gates. I'll pay you back for the medical expenses once I get my salary." I bowed sincerely before slipping out. Fortunately, I made it in time. T

Then he hung up. After he hung up, I got beaten again. After that, I never called him again. Why was I coughing up blood? Because their whips often landed on my back, causing long-term injuries to my spleen and stomach. I saw James fall silent. I knew he didn't believe me again. I lowered my head and didn't ask him if he would send me back. If I went back this time, it would just end there. The people inside wouldn't care about life or death. I thought that after I got out, I would have a new life, but I was wrong. As long as I had anything to do with James, I couldn't find peace. The doctor called James outside, saying some test results had come out. James asked the doctor to give me a full check-up. The door opened from the outside, and James rushed in. He pulled back my blanket and my clothes. There was an ugly scar on my body. "Where's the kidney? I'm asking you a question, where's your kidney?" James's eyes were red, veins bulging on his forehead, stari

The boy laughed. It would usually take me three to five minutes to make a pancake. I clumsily took six or seven minutes. The outer layer was crispy, but not burnt. However, he would probably get a sore throat after finishing this. "Do you want me to make you another one? You'll get a sore throat if you eat this." "No need." He took the already wrapped pancake from my hand and took a bite. "It's delicious! If you ask me, pancakes should be cooked to this degree to taste good, crispy on the outside." His praise made me smile broadly. "How much is it? You're not going to ask for an outrageous price, right?" The boy looked at me with wide eyes as if he had thought of something. "No, I said it's free, just as a good start." When the boy was leaving, he suddenly turned back and waved at me, saying, "Miss, my name is Jack Thomson." I watched him walk away, and in a daze, I realized how far away university felt. If I hadn't been so headstrong back then, I would have gra