Chapter 18

"Yes, I'm insane!" Oliver let out a bitter, broken laugh. "I lost my mind the day you left me." He took a shaky breath, voice low and trembling. "The doctors have diagnosed me with severe depression. There were so many times… when I woke up at the edge. "Sometimes I'd find myself standing on a rooftop, one step away from falling. Sometimes I'd be in the bathtub, wrists slashed open, blood everywhere." He looked at Cynthia, eyes filled with desperation. "Cynthia, I'm sick—and only you can heal me. Please, just pity me. Come back with me, please?" His voice cracked with hope, but his expression didn't change. Cynthia didn't flinch at all. Her gaze was cold, and her tone was still icy. "If you're sick, see a doctor. I'm not your cure—I can't heal you. This ends here. I have things to do. Move aside, or I'll call the police." Her cold words sliced through him like glass, and Oliver's proud figure buckled, his body trembling uncontrollably. When he lifted his eyes again, they shimme