I Will End My 10-Year Unrequited Love - Chapter 36

Lately, even that certainty had begun to slip away. Cyrone couldn’t bear the anxiety and fear it stirred within him.

“You know what this is.”

With his expression completely wiped clean, Cyrone loosened the blue shirt he wore. As the collar parted along his firm neck, what appeared was a cameo necklace carved with the image of an unknown girl.

Elia’s eyes were more startled by the necklace revealed than by the undone buttons. She couldn’t not know what it was. The necklace she had personally crafted for Cyrone.

Elia had even chosen the gemstone that would border it: an emerald green, strikingly pale and clear, resembling Elia’s own eyes. Hung near Cyrone’s nape, close to his heart, it was the tender wish of a young Elia who longed to stay there.

But now, nearly ten years later, Elia had completely forgotten that memory. Yet Cyrone still carried it with him.

“Do you understand?”

Cyrone roughly tore the necklace from his neck. Startled, Elia stumbled backward.

“Elia. Do you know how much I—”

Before he could finish, Cyrone’s lips found Elia’s nape. His warm breath teased her sensitive skin. It was a slow, lingering kiss that sent heat coursing through her entire body.

At that moment, the sharp click of metal meeting metal sounded.

“Do you understand how much I love you?”

Cyrone pressed a brief kiss over the necklace one last time. Only then did Elia look down at the necklace around her own neck. Suddenly, she felt her breath hitch. The warmth lingering in the necklace felt like a suffocating shackle tightening around her throat.

“Please take it off.”

Elia raised her fingers to undo the clasp, struggling in vain. The necklace would not budge by her own strength. Cyrone’s gaze watching her grew heavier.

“Even if you disguise that disgusting pity as love…”

Cyrone quietly held Elia’s trembling hands as he muttered. Reflexively, Elia glared fiercely back at him.

As her eyes grew colder, an uncontrollable heat rose in Cyrone’s chest. He could never get used to the cold, contemptuous look Elia directed at him. Those eyes ignited an unbearable, bitter fire within him.

“I will love you just as I always have.”

What Elia showed Cyrone was mistaken for love, but it was pity and compassion. It was nothing more than a vow to atone for her father’s sins.

But even so, it was unavoidable. Whether it was love or pity, Cyrone could never let go of Elia. It had already become a purpose etched into his life.

“The ones who care the most are always the weakest.”

Cyrone let out a low, short laugh.

“…!”

Clang.

As Cyrone gently stroked Elia’s delicate cheek, the sharp sound of breaking fragments rang out. His eyes, caught on the floor, instantly grew hollow.

Elia had forcibly torn off the necklace hanging around her neck.

The tightly fastened clasp broke instantly, and the small metal pieces that held the necklace rolled shattered across the floor. The cameo depicting the girl was crushed beyond recognition. Like a tomorrow that could never be reunited.

Elia had pulled so hard the skin on her neck was marked with a red scratch. Her eyes darkened coldly.

“Well then, why don’t you just beg me to love you, Your Highness?”

Cyrone slowly lifted his head, staring at the broken fragments scattered at his feet. Elia’s words were so sharp that Cyrone’s usually calm, river-like blue eyes trembled deeply.

In the face of that single word; pity. Elia’s ten years, that love, were mercilessly trampled in an instant. She fought the urge to slap Cyrone’s cheek.

But instead, Elia quietly concealed her expression. It was a face empty of any emotion, as if she no longer wished to engage in this pointless war.

“You…”

Cyrone’s voice dropped noticeably. There was no anger, sadness, or even resentment in his usually calm tone, only pure anxiety.

“How dare you….”

He muttered through clenched teeth. Elia looked impassively at Cyrone’s pale, frightened face. The moonlight filling the space between them was sharply cold.

“Elia.”

Just as Cyrone reached out his hand, Elia harshly slapped it away. His hand froze helplessly in midair. A chill ran through Cyrone’s chest. Elia’s gaze no longer held him, the eyes that once always sought him now looked utterly empty.

“Do you know? Only then might I truly love you.”

Elia whispered slowly, barely audible. After saying that, she exhaled softly, as if something tightly held inside her finally burst and flowed free.

“Don’t expect too much from me, Your Highness.”