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Chapter 18
There were not many people who attended Melanie’s funeral, and everyone’s mood was very heavy.
No one expected that she would end her life so quietly and silently.
After all, not long ago, most people had met her and had dinner and chatted with her. At that time,
she appeared very normal, and there was no sign of suicidal thoughts at all.
The coffin was empty, with neither a body nor ashes inside, not even a piece of clothing for remembrance. It was filled with yellow and white chrysanthemums.
Only a fourteen–inch memorial photo placed on the altar could testify to who the protagonist of this
funeral was.
The desolate and empty scene surprised everyone, and they couldn’t help but come and ask.
“Everyone just wanted to come and bid farewell to Melanie. Was the body cremated? What about the
ashes?”
“Can’t some of the clothes and items she used during her lifetime be brought over?”
Faced with the questions they raised, Nathen turned pale and couldn’t utter a word.
After being together for so many years, he did not leave behind anything related to her.
Even this last photograph was the only thing he retrieved from the Dignitas Organization.
Looking at the calm and indifferent face in the photo, he couldn’t help but recall what had happened
on the day the photo was taken.
If that day, he could have paid more attention to her, would he have known that she was going to close her account? Would he have known that she took black and white memorial photos?
Only when Nathen reached the irreparable situation did he finally understand what he had done
He thought he had hidden his shameful thoughts so well that Melanie wouldn’t notice.
But after being together for so many years, they became so familiar with each other that they could understand each other’s thoughts with just a blink of an eye.
He ignored her everywhere, time and time again leaving her behind, laughing and joking with other
women in front of her.
How could she not feel it? She knew everything and had been waiting for him to confess.
He, however, indulged in self–fantasies, ignoring her unmistakable coldness and disappointment.
Everyone asked him about the cause of Melanie’s death.
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Only he knew that he was the sole catalyst that led her towards death.
He caused her to lose her future, and with a changed heart, destroyed their shared past. Finally, with endless neglect and indifference, he severed her hope for reality.
He was the one who killed Melanie.
After the funeral, Nathen went home holding the only remaining photograph.
He pushed open the door and walked in slowly, only able to hear the echo of his footsteps,
extremely quiet all around.
And when he stopped, the whole world fell silent.
The house was very cold, with four walls adorned with white paint and devoid of framed photographs, making it resemble a mortuary.
He looked around and felt a sense of déjà vu in his heart.
Not long ago, this apartment was lively and full of vitality.
How did it become like this in just over ten days?
The endless silence, accompanied by the slowly darkening sky, plunged Nathen into the abyss.
He felt as if he had lost all five senses, unable to perceive how time was passing, how life was continuing, and how the heart was beating.
Apart from the photo frame in his arms, which was warmed by his body temperature and not as
cold, he couldn’t feel anything.
I don’t know how long it had passed, but the long night finally came to an end.
The sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the loosely drawn curtains.
After more than ten days of continuous rain and snow, the first sunrise of the new year rose.
Nathen reached out his scarred hand and gave it a squeeze, as if trying to grasp onto the rare
warmth.
Still wanted to scoop up a handful of dust.
