The CEO Lost Me, the Doctor Won My Heart novel Chapter 6

After leaving the cemetery, I decided to head home and pack my things. 

Maybe, for just a moment, Lucas actually felt guilty. 

But how long would that guilt really last? 

This wasn't the first time he'd had a flicker of remorse. 

We spent our teenage years huddled together in that basement, holding on to each other to survive.

There was no way he had forgotten those nights so easily. 

At first, he'd remember every now and then—maybe with a half-hearted apology, a token gift, or some empty words that sounded like love. 

And for a while, I let myself believe it. 

I told myself he was just busy, that the way he cared for me hadn't changed—just his way of showing it. 

Until I realized he was slipping away, drawn into the delicate, calculated trap Lila had set for him. 

She made sure to rewrite our past, turning my pain into jealousy, my actions into petty tantrums. 

And Lucas?

He believed her. 

I became nothing more than an inconvenience to him. 

So now, even when he looked me in the eyes and said sorry, it meant nothing. 

I wasn't holding my breath for something that would never come. 

I packed up my things. 

Everything fit into a single suitcase. 

Most of what I had belonged to Lucas anyway, and I wasn't about to take anything from him. 

All I took were a few things I'd carried with me since my days at the orphanage—except for the wooden carving sitting in the corner of the living room. 

We made it together on our first date, picking it up from some roadside vendor. 

It was awful—messy colors, uneven edges.

Neither of us had an artistic bone in our body. 

But back then, we loved it. 

We put it right in the center of the living room, where everyone could see. 

Lucas had said, "No matter how many expensive things we have in the future, nothing will ever mean as much as this."

I tried to hold on, but my wrist was still weak.

He pulled it from my grip easily. 

I winced. 

Lucas immediately grabbed my hand, concern flashing in his eyes. 

I shook him off. 

"Toni…"

He said my name softly, like it still meant something. 

Three months ago, it might have. 

Now, I felt nothing. 

"Tell me, Lucas—" 

"Do you regret this because you actually care about me?" 

"Or do you just miss the hands that used to take away your pain?"