ManyWriters

Twelve years ago, I was stabbed by one of Zoran's admirers, leaving me unable to bear children for life.
Zoran knelt by my hospital bed, crying as he vowed to love me with his life forever.
"Fallon, I'm already thankful to heaven that you survived..."
"From now on, I will never let anyone hurt you again."
Twelve years later, Zoran pinned that former admirer beneath him:
"Aria, will you have a child with me?"
I laughed bitterly at myself, went home and trashed Zoran's bedroom, accidentally discovering his old diary.
In anger, I wrote: "Zoran! I hate you!"
Unexpectedly, a sentence appeared out of thin air: "Who are you? I don't care who hates me except Fallon."
For a moment, I forgot my fear and wrote stroke by stroke: "I am Fallon."

My Tears, Your Trophy

What's the point of saying all this now?


If you truly felt sorry for me, you wouldn't have done those ridiculous things in the first place.


Lost in some thought, his eyes darted away, his gaze lowered, and his whole demeanor became dejected.


"Aria's stomach was hurting badly at the coffee shop, so I took her to the hospital. When the doctor was examining her, I seemed to remember something more."


He clutched his head, muttering painfully to himself.


"Zoran, you're such a piece of work! How could you turn into this after just a few years of marriage? How can you face Fallon?"


"I really want to beat the crap out of that future bastard, so Fallon won't be so heartbroken."


As if disturbed by his 18-year-old self, he started slapping himself, talking to himself.


Finally, he looked up at me, his face full of remorse.


Zoran hurriedly grabbed my hand, fearfully kneeling down.


Chapter 7