Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed novel Chapter 840

“Happy New Year, Roseanne.”

The man’s voice flowed through the quiet like a cello’s low notes, resonant and intimate in the hush of midnight.

All around her, the world was silent—except for that rich, velvet timbre.

Roseanne’s ear tingled at the sound. She scratched absently, switching her phone to the other side.

“Happy New Year, Professor.”

Just then, from inside her apartment, the collective countdown of the television hosts echoed out—

“Five… four… three… two—”

And as “one” rang out, Owen Reynolds spoke again. “Roseanne, look up.”

She obeyed without thinking.

Then, the sky exploded into color. Fireworks blossomed above, each burst cascading down like a thousand stars flung over the city.

“Oh my God—Lumina City actually allowed fireworks this year?!”

“Wait, look—those aren’t regular fireworks, they’re digital!”

“Didn’t the news say that large-scale digital fireworks weren’t technically possible yet? How did they pull this off so soon?”

“Well, they must’ve cracked it!”

“These are gorgeous! And there’s not even a whiff of gunpowder!”

“Anyone else notice? The digital fireworks linger longer, and they fall closer to the ground—it almost feels like you could reach out and touch them…”

“Does this mean we’ll get fireworks every New Year’s Eve from now on?”

“Of course! Now that the tech works, why wouldn’t they use it?”

Neighbors from three houses spilled out onto their lawns, their laughter and amazement blending with the sounds of fireworks overhead, all of it braiding together into a tapestry of celebration.

Roseanne stared, spellbound.

In her dark eyes, the fireworks flared and faded, dazzling in their fleeting beauty.

But there’s no need for regret, she thought. Flowers bloom and fall—everything in its time.

On the other end of the call, Owen’s voice was gentle. “Roseanne, here comes our third year.”

A smile spread across her lips as she watched the night sky light up. “Time flies… I can’t believe we’ve already spent two New Year’s Eves together.”

“Can we video call?” he asked.

“Of course.”

His request popped up. She accepted.

Owen appeared wearing a soft turtleneck, his profile lit by warm lamplight. The gentle glow softened his usually reserved features, making him look unexpectedly tender.

Behind them, fireworks kept blooming, painting half the sky in color.