Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Ruin My Painting, Now He Regrets. novel Chapter 6

She didn't want him anymore.

The extra toothbrush in the bathroom-gone.

The clothes in the closet, the slippers by the door-

Everything screamed that this place no longer belonged to her.

Lucas felt lightheaded, barely able to stand.

How? Chloe loved him. She had been waiting for this proposal.

How could she leave now?

No. No, something was wrong.

Lucas stumbled, rushing toward her art studio.

Then, he froze.

The paintings-his paintings-were gone.

Every single one she had so carefully preserved, replaced by shredded paper scattered across the floor.

Why… Why?

He couldn't even bring himself to step inside.

"Lucas!" Victoria's voice was tentative as she approached.

Seeing the wreckage, a smirk briefly tugged at her lips before she quickly masked it with a concerned tone.

"What happened here? Did Chloe really shred all her work?"

Before she could finish, Lucas grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall.

"You… It was you, wasn't it?"

His veins bulged as his grip tightened.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of her room?!"

Victoria clawed at his hands, gasping. "I… I didn't…"

"Don't lie to me!" Lucas threw her to the ground.

"What, do you expect me to believe Chloe did this herself?!"

"She treasured those paintings more than anything!"

"There's no way she'd destroy them!"

"It was already like this when I got here!"

Victoria snapped, scrambling to defend herself.

"I just took the one that was facing the-"

"Took it where?"

Realizing her mistake, Victoria clamped her mouth shut.

Lucas let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

"Victoria, security footage doesn't lie. You better hope you didn't touch anything."

On the third day after landing, I officially enrolled in one of the most prestigious art academies in the city.

The professors were insightful, my classmates were warm and welcoming.

Slowly, the painful memories faded.

Maybe it was fate.

Days passed, and I never once dreamed of Lucas again.

I barely even thought of him."

If I had to put it into words, there was no love, no hate.

His head dropped, his voice laced with something almost like… hurt.

"You didn't come to the wedding that day."

"You never saw the nine hundred and ninety-nine blue roses I prepared for you."

"You said that when we got married, we'd plant them all over our yard."

"I had them ready for you, but you never showed up…"

I pulled my hand back, tucking it into my sleeve before using the fabric to brush his hand off me.

"Lucas, I remember you used to be a germophobe."

"You never let me touch you."

"So what, you're cured now?"

Lucas looked guilty, panicked even, as he called my name and reached for my hand again.

I swatted it away.

"But Lucas," I smiled, cruelly.

"I've developed a germophobia of my own."

"Don't touch me. You disgust me."

His lips pressed together tightly.

His eyes filled with helplessness.

His hand hovered midair before finally falling limply to his side.

"Chloe… how could you be so heartless?"

"You didn't even leave me a single painting. Not even a memory."

"A painting?" I scoffed. "I left you one."