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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 discs lay 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
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtopened 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. 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 desolate.
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 clay artworks,
two clay dolls locked in an eternal heart-shaped embrace.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBradley remembered pushing away the gift box impatiently when Esther had offered the dolls. The clay figures had
tumbled to the ground, shattering, but Esther had painstakingly glued their broken hands back together.
In addition to the clay 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 collapsed to the
floor. Yet, as he fell, he clung tightly to the wedding photograph of himself and Esther.
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