When Lumina saw who it was, her steps faltered and a coldness crept across her face. She ignored him, popped open the trunk, and tossed her things inside without a word.
Cedric stood there, watching her intently.
He’d spent over three years by her side, sharing laughter and quiet moments. Yet looking at her now—so calm, so utterly unreadable—he realized this was probably her truest self.
Once she’d finished packing, Lumina reached for the car door. But before she could open it, a hand shot out, pressing the door shut.
She tried to tug it open twice, but it didn't budge. Even with both her hands, she couldn't overpower his single grip.
It was at that moment Lumina truly felt the stark physical difference between men and women.
She was already exhausted from gathering her things, and now she had no energy left to fight him. Leaning back against the car, she fixed Cedric with a frosty stare.
The wind whistled around them, and their eyes met—each gaze unwavering, locked in a silent battle neither was willing to lose.
After a long standoff, Cedric finally spoke, his tone heavy. “So you really think you did nothing wrong when you hit her?”
Lumina crossed her arms, shooting back, sharp as ever, “Isn’t this about you feeling sorry for her? You want me to apologize, don’t you?”
His brow furrowed, but before he could reply, Lumina looked at him, her gaze deep and searching. “How long have you and her been together? Was it before my brother died, or after?”
Cedric took a slow, menacing step forward and seized her wrist. “Who do you think you are, asking me something like that?”
Without realizing it, Lumina’s eyes reddened. She gave him a smile that was anything but warm. “Do I qualify if I say I’m your bed partner of three years? Or is that not enough?”

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