Reclaiming the CEO's Heart

Chapter 8 Fading Memories

Chapter 8 Fading Memories

Avery lowered her head and glanced at the paper, on which prominently written the address of a

cemetery.

Did it mean his little sister passed away? But what did his sister's death have to do with her father?

Avery knew for sure that Martin would never harm a young girl.

Knowing that the two wouldn't reveal much, Avery didn't press them further. In the following trip, there

was silence.

Returning to this familiar place, Avery was filled with mixed emotions.

John politely inquired, "Mr.s Hill, would you like to go in?"

"No need. I'll wait for him here."

The final interaction between her and Jazob was now reduced to the pending divorce. She didn't want

to create more complications, especially when every blade of grass and every tree here held memories

of both of them. She also didn't want to stir up deep emotions.

If she had to blame anyone or anything, it would be the man who used to treat her as an appple of his

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Even though he had grown colder with each passing day, she still held onto memories of his kindness.

She should despise him deeply, but she couldn't bring herself to be harsh.

The car engine kept running, providing her with a steady supply of warmth. She was alone in the car,

and Avery's stomachache returned. She curled up like a little shrimp, hugging her knees tightly,

crouching on the seat, and waiting for dawn.

Winter days grew dark early and bright late. It was a little after seven, and the sky was still misty.

The ginkgo tree in the yard had long shed its leaves. Her thoughts drifted back to the past.

In autum back then, every time when she wanted to have soup with ginkgo, he would climb up the over

ten-meter-high ginkgo tree in the yard to shake the fruits down for her.

Green and yellow leaves fell gently, like a golden rain for her.

At that time, Jazob was approachable and skilled in cooking. He doted on her endlessly.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize when she had walked alone to the base of that tree. The ginkgo

tree was still there, but everything else had changed.

The leaves had long fallen, leaving only a few withered ones teetering on the branches, much like the

precarious relationship between her and Jazob now.

Jazob stepped out of the villa and was met with this scene.

A young woman in a thin, knitted sweater stood under the tree, her head tilting back. The cold wind

tousled her hair.

Today, the weather had changed from the gloomy days of the previous ones. The first rays of the

morning sun fell on her face. Her skin was almost translucent, like a fading divine maiden.

Her palm was still wrapped in gauze. Strangely, she was still wearing last night's clothes, looking wan.

"Jazob," she didn't turn around but knew of his arrival.

"Mm-hmm."

Avery slowly turned around, her gaze fixed on the tall man. Despite their close proximity, it felt like they

were worlds apart.

"Can you make soup for one for one last time?" she murmured.

A moment of surprise flitted across Jazob's dark eyes, and then he spoke coolly, "The ginkgo season

has passed. Avery. Don't waste our time."

Avery's eyes welled with redness. She murmured, "Can't this be my final request before the divorce?"

After three months of being apart, she seemed to have changed a lot.

He averted his gaze, looking at the bare tree. His tone was less cold. "The frozen ones from last year

aren't fresh. If you want, I can make it for you next year."

Next year...

Avery touched the rough bark. She was afraid she wouldn't make it until then.

"Jazob, do you hate me that much?"

"Yes."

She turned to look at him and asked softly, "Then... would you be happy if I were dead?"

Boom-

Avery's words seemed to crash down on his heart like thunder. Jazob felt a deafening roar in his head,

momentarily losing his composure.

After a moment, he regained his thoughts and spoke calmly, "It's just soup. Come in."

Avery watched his retreating figure, a faint smile playing on her lips.

So there's a part of you that doesn't wish me dead, right?

A vengeful thought arose in her mind. She suddenly wondered what his expression would be like if he

learned of her passing one day.

Would he be happy or sad?

There were ginkgo fruits stored in the refrigerator from before. He deftly took out the ingredients to

thaw.

Watching him bustling about inside, Avery felt nothing but bitterness. This was probably the last time he

would cook for her.

That was fine.

It was a kind of impressive memory left behind.

Avery roasted sweet potatoes in front of the fireplace. The fragrance of sweet potatoes filled the air.

In winter's past, every time she crouched here to roast sweet potatoes, Madam Hill would come

running at the scent. She had been kind to her, treating Avery like her own granddaughter.

Unfortunately, she had passed away two years ago. Sir Hill didn't want to grieve day and night, so he

moved abroad.

The warm and spacious mansion now felt desolate. The sweet potatoes were still fragrant and

delicious, but without Madam Hill to compete with, Avery found it less engaging.

After eating the sweet potatoes and drinking a glass of warm water, her stomachache eased a bit.

As the kitchen aroma wafted over, Avery got up and went over. She found Jacob had transferred the

soup into a thermos and then ladled some into a bowl.

Once upon a time, she was his cherished darling, but now she wasn't the only one. She had been

using the goodness from the past to blind herself, unwilling to admit the truth.

"The soup is ready," Jacob said, not noticing her despondent mood.

"Thank you."

She looked down at the steaming broth in the bowl, still as delicious as ever. But she had no appetite.

"It's getting late. Let's go to the Civil Hall," Jacob said, his handsome brows showing signs of irritation.

"You're not going to drink?" he asked.

"I don't feel like it."

She used to be quite wilful, and he would patiently coax her every time.

Now, he just gave her a gaze before pouring the soup down the sink, and passing by her

expressionlessly. "Let's go."

Jacob handed the thermos to John. "Take this to Willowbrook."

"Yes, Mr Hill."

Avery only realized at this moment that there was no way to salvage things between them.

This year of persistence seemed like a joke.

She quickly walked towards the car, passing by the ginkgo tree. A gust of cold wind blew, and the last

stubborn leaf finally fell.

Avery cupped the lifeless leaf in her hand, whispering, "What's the point of holding on?"

She casually tossed it aside, then stomped on it. The fragile leaf crumbled beneath her foot.

Closing the car door, despite the heating inside, the two of them sitting separately felt like the end of

the world had arrived, and the car space felt chilly somehow.

The drive to the Civil Hall was smooth, with no traffic along the way. The green lights all the way felt as

if fate itself was giving them an easy way out of their divorce.

As they turned into the next intersection, Jacob's phone rang. Layla's anxious voice came through.

"Jacob, Ethan's fever won't go down. I didn't want to disturb you, but just now, his temperature reached

102°CF. I'm so scared. Please come quickly..."

"I'm coming right away."

Jacob hung up the phone and met Avery's eyes, which were now red and filled with resentment. She

spoke slowly, word by word, "What is that child's name?"