He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 213

The solid earth, mixed with sharp rocks, quickly tore the skin off his palms.

His nails split apart as he dug, blood pouring out to dye the dirt a dark crimson.

The excruciating agony in his fingertips felt like an anesthetic, fueling his frenzy even further.

It seemed that only through this form of self-mutilation could he slightly ease the regret and heartache threatening to rip him apart.

Again, and again...

He dug tirelessly, his hospital gown covered in mud and blood, leaving him looking utterly battered.

His usually aloof and distinguished face was now smeared with tears, sweat, and dirt, frozen in an expression of crazed despair.

The wind picked up, rustling the fallen leaves on the ground as if mocking his futile efforts.

He had no idea how much time had passed when his fingers finally brushed against something cold and hard.

It was the urn.

In that instant, Grant's movements ground to a halt.

As if drained of all his strength, he slumped stiffly by the grave, his body shaking uncontrollably.

Found it...

He had finally... found her.

Using his mangled hands, he carefully brushed the dirt off the urn, his movements so gentle it was as though he were handling a priceless treasure.

The exquisite rosewood urn felt freezing to the touch.

Yet, that temperature felt like a branding iron, searing his heart until it spasmed.

Such a small box.

The Sienna who used to look at him with those clear eyes was now reduced to a mere handful of ash?

Trembling, he used every ounce of his remaining strength to pull the heavy box out of the soil.

He held the urn tightly against his chest, as if trying to fuse it into his very flesh and blood.

"Sienna... I'm sorry..."

"I'm sorry... I was wrong..."

"Please come back... Come back..."

His belated apologies were sharper than any blade, slicing him to ribbons.

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