He cooked for me every single day—balanced meals, proper nutrition, determined to put weight on my too-thin frame. Whenever the luxury houses released their seasonal collections, he had everything sent to the house before I could even browse the catalogs.
Once, after a trip to Disneyland, I mentioned offhandedly how magical it would be to live in a castle like the fairies did.
He bought land. Built me an estate. A secret sanctuary, just for me.
Everyone in Capital City's elite circles knew how Sebastian Gilbert treated me. It wasn't a secret—it was legend.
He made me bright again. Confident. Even a little spoiled, in ways I'd never imagined possible after everything I'd lost.
On the nights when the grief crept back—when I woke gasping from nightmares of my mother's fall, terrified that Sebastian would leave me too—he would hold me through every sob, every irrational accusation, and repeat the same words with unwavering patience:
"Never worry, Joy. Unless I'm dead, I will never stop loving you."
How was I supposed to let go of that man?
So when he returned from the Maldives with Narelle, I swallowed my pride. I begged.