Chapter 276 Losing to a Dead?
Byron stood there for a moment, watching the little girl and her maid walk away. The innocence of Mia’s words and the fierceness in her small eyes brought a soft smile to his lips. It was strange. In that fleeting moment, he had felt something other than the cold, calculated emotions he usually kept in check. It reminded him of the child he and Athena might have had—what they might have looked like together, the little life they could have raised. It was a thought that almost stung, but it was also strangely comforting.
As he straightened himself, he heard Freya’s footsteps approaching from behind. The momentary softness on his face quickly faded as he turned to face her.
“Byron,” she called out, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “You’ve made your choice, haven’t you?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he adjusted his posture, glancing at her with that familiar, distant coldness. She had never been one to back down from a confrontation, and today was no different. But this time, Byron had no intention of yielding.
“You don’t understand,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “I can’t just forget Athena. I can’t replace her. No matter what you do or say, it’s never going to be enough for me. And it’s never going to be enough for you either.”
Freya’s chest tightened at his words, but she refused to let herself break down. “So, what now?” she asked, the bitterness evident in her voice. “Do you plan to live the rest of your life locked in the past, clinging to a memory, refusing to move on?”
Byron didn’t answer immediately. He glanced away, his gaze lost somewhere beyond her. “I’m not living in the past,” he replied quietly. “But I can’t pretend that it’s gone either.”
Freya’s heart twisted in her chest. She had hoped for a different answer, something that would give her the reassurance she needed—that maybe, just maybe, Byron could look at her and see more than a mere shadow of the woman he had once loved. But it wasn’t happening.
“You’ve already decided,” Freya said, more to herself than to him. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Not in front of him.
Byron could see the pain in her eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to ease it. He knew what it meant to love someone so deeply that they became a part of your soul. But he also knew what it meant to lose them, and how nothing could fill that void. The presence of Freya, however hard she tried, was a reminder of something he couldn’t have back.
He turned away without another word, heading toward the elevator. Behind him, Freya’s voice trembled as she called out, “Then what about me, Byron? What am I supposed to do now?”
The elevator doors slid shut before he could respond, and the silence between them became the loudest sound of all.
Freya stood there, her body heavy with the weight of his rejection, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She had invested so much of herself into trying to rebuild something with Byron, but now she saw the futility in it. It was over. He had made his choice, and it wasn’t her.
As Byron’s figure disappeared from her sight, Freya’s mind wandered to the little girl she had just seen. Mia. The child reminded her of a life that could have been—one that might have blossomed from love, from shared moments, from the simple things. But that dream had already crumbled into dust.
With a bitter laugh, Freya turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t.
Byron, however, was still lost in his own thoughts as the elevator descended. Mia’s face lingered in his mind. That small girl with her fierce determination and her sweet innocence. He had seen something in her, something that reminded him of the daughter he would never have. The daughter who could have been, if only things had turned out differently.
He felt a pang in his chest. It wasn’t just the grief of losing Athena—it was the grief of never getting the future they should have had. And now, no matter how much time passed, no matter how many years went by, that future was lost forever.