Everest's Guardian Hubby Watched Me Freeze My Ghost Knows Where He'll Burn novel Chapter 20

Chapter 7

When they finally returned to the apartment, Nicholas took great care in tending to every scrape and bruise that marked Elara’s skin. Each wound seemed to deepen the gnawing guilt within him, a relentless ache that refused to subside. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed her somehow.

For several days afterward, Nicholas refused to leave their small sanctuary. He remained by her side, his presence constant and unwavering, as if his staying close could somehow undo what had happened. Yet, Elara’s reactions were minimal, almost detached, as if she were retreating into herself.

One quiet night, long after Nicholas had fallen asleep, Elara maneuvered her wheelchair silently down the dimly lit hallway. She pushed open the door to his study, a place he thought was private, and discovered the journal he believed he had hidden well enough. Curiosity and something deeper urged her on.

She flipped the cover open, and her eyes landed on a page filled entirely with a single sentence, scrawled repeatedly in furious handwriting:
“You’re such a piece of shit, Nicholas. You’re such a piece of shit. You’re such a piece of shit.”

A cold wave of sadness washed over her. She closed the journal gently and slid it back into its hiding spot, her fingers trembling slightly.

No sooner had she left the study than the bedroom door burst open. Nicholas appeared, his shirt half-buttoned, hair disheveled, and bare feet padding quickly across the floor. His eyes searched hers with a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Elara—Jesus, it’s two in the morning. What on earth are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice rough with worry.

She averted her gaze, then answered smoothly, “Thirsty. Just getting some water.”

Nicholas hurried to the kitchen, filled a glass, and handed it to her. Despite his effort to sound steady, his voice cracked with emotion. “Next time, just wake me up, okay? If something happened to you and I wasn’t here… God, I don’t even want to imagine that.”

Elara lifted her eyes to meet his, her stare unwavering and calm. “Nicholas, is there something you want to tell me?”

He froze momentarily, then shook his head quickly. “No. Why would you think that?”

All it would have taken was honesty. A simple truth spoken in that moment could have changed everything. But still, he remained silent.

Closing her eyes, Elara allowed a faint, bitter smile to touch her lips—a mask for the disappointment simmering beneath.

The following morning, Elara pulled out every old photo album they owned and spread them across the living room floor. She didn’t even bother to hide her intentions. One by one, she tore each photograph into fragments, the shredded memories scattering like fallen leaves.

Nicholas walked in and stood frozen, staring down at the pile of torn images. “Why—why would you do that?” he asked, voice thick with disbelief.

Without hesitation, Elara shrugged and offered a casual excuse. “They got water-damaged and warped. No point in keeping them. We can always take new ones later.”

The ease with which she said it tightened something deep in Nicholas’s chest. He wasn’t sure whether to believe her or sense the deeper pain beneath her words.

Nicholas turned around, puzzled. Standing a few feet away was Valentina, looking pale and unsteady, favoring her left ankle.

Concern instantly filled Nicholas’s face. “Valentina? What are you doing here? What happened?”

“I came to visit my grandma’s grave,” she explained, voice shaky. “It’s slippery from the rain—I twisted my ankle pretty badly.”

Without hesitation, Nicholas stepped forward, steadying her gently.

Valentina looked up at him with eyes shimmering with tears. “Nicholas… could you maybe take me to urgent care?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

He barely glanced back at Elara. “Babe, take your time. I’ll be right back.”

Neither of them asked if Elara was okay with being left alone.

They simply left her there, standing quietly in the cemetery, alone.