Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 3130

It had only been a week, but Xavier had changed drastically. His entire aura had become gloomy, making him look even more haggard and listless.

Her heart ached with a bitter pang, and her footsteps unconsciously lightened.

Xavier opened his eyes. His cold, proud gaze had become completely dull. He spoke in a hoarse voice, "Why are you here?"

Estelle sat across from him. "Just came to see you!"

Xavier leaned forward to pour her tea. "What's there to see? Same as always."

Estelle stared at him. "Are you sure you're the same as always?"

The hand Xavier used to hold the teapot paused, trembling slightly. The water splashed inside the cup, and the crisp sound was somewhat jarring in the sweltering afternoon heat.

He set the teapot down, his stubble-covered face looking even more defeated. "Have you gone to see Norah lately?"

Only when mentioning Norah did a trace of life seem to return to his eyes. But just like a sliver of light reflecting off a stagnant pool, it silently sank back into dead darkness.

Estelle nodded. "She's recovering very well. Her right hand can already hold light objects, and she's in good spirits."

Xavier nodded slowly. "That's good."

His tone grew even softer as he asked, "Has she... remembered me?"

Estelle paused before saying softly, "No."

Xavier lowered his eyes, his lips curving into a smile that was half self-mocking, half self-comforting. "That's for the best."

Estelle took a deep breath. "Isn't this what you wanted? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Xavier's face was a bit pale. He reached for a cigarette, and only when he pulled it out did he remember he couldn't smoke. His tense jaw betrayed his unease and agitation.

Estelle said, "If you want to smoke, go ahead. One cigarette won't make a big difference."

He even loathed himself.

His heart felt constantly hollow, as if the most precious, important thing had been gouged out. Everything in his life had lost its meaning.

Occasionally, he tried to numb himself by getting drunk. But when his head spun, some of the pain only became sharper. He'd see Norah laughing in front of him, confessing her feelings with that half-joking, half-serious tone.

Her sweet, soft voice relentlessly tugged at his every nerve, leaving him wandering in a purgatory between joy and despair.

And countless times in his sleep, he heard Norah crying—a suppressed, sorrowful cry, just like the one over the phone that night, twisting his heart into knots.

He wanted to find her, to comfort her, but he couldn't find her anywhere.

Time didn't fade these agonizing memories; it only etched them deeper. He grew increasingly depressed and self-destructive, suffocated by a gloomy, irritable mood, like a headless fly unable to find a way out.

God was punishing him, not even granting him the chance to regret it.