Falling for the Goddess

It's My Fault, Don't Cry Anymore...

Sara Hart stood in front of Adrian Blake, dressed in light-colored loungewear, her soft hair cascading over her shoulders. But her typically lively, bright eyes looked dull and clouded, her face pale as fragile porcelain.

Adrian's gaze darkened with a mix of regret and unease. He struggled to find his words, eventually managing, "I... I'm sorry..."

At the sound of his voice, Sara's eyelashes trembled, but she didn't look up. Her response was quiet and formal. "No need to apologize, Mr. Blake."

"Mr. Blake?"

Her distance was palpable. Adrian opened his mouth, but no words came out.

They stood in silence until the sound of a door opening broke it. A middle-aged woman stepped into the hallway with a black garbage bag, looking curiously at the two of them.

Sara bit her lip and stepped aside, her voice even. "We can talk inside."

Adrian entered, glancing around. The apartment was neat and bright, decorated in light tones. By the balcony stood a white swing chair beside a small round table.

Sara shut the door, standing still by it, avoiding his gaze.

A barely audible sigh escaped Adrian; he had indeed hurt her.

"Sara," he began, his tone serious. "About last night, I'm truly sorry."

Sara kept her head down, saying nothing, though her fingers clenched slightly.

"I misjudged you," he continued, "and said things I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

She couldn't describe her feelings - he had come to apologize, something she hadn't expected, especially not so soon. But despite this, a dull ache lingered in her chest, her eyes stinging. She wanted to confront him, to ask what he truly thought of her.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to say she forgave him. Somehow, seeing him here made it all hurt even more.

Noticing her silence, Adrian clenched his fists at his sides, lowering his voice. "My grandma explained everything. The milk and soup had... something extra. I should have asked you first."

"I know I've had my doubts about you," he admitted, "and assumed you had ulterior motives for marrying me. I know now that I should have trusted you... and I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."

Sara's head snapped up, a small, bitter smile on her lips. "Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan to do that, Mr. Blake?"

She had chosen to marry him, to take on the misunderstanding and the struggles that came with it, fully aware of how things might turn out. But being doubted like this, it cut deep. Her heart felt like it was being slowly carved out, piece by piece.

"This is what I deserve..." she murmured.

But the moment she opened her mouth, tears spilled over, one by one, silent and relentless. She widened her eyes, trying to keep them at bay, but they fell against her will. She didn't want to seem weak in front of him; she didn't want to cry.

The tears blurred her vision, distorting Adrian's face. She thought bitterly that crying in front of someone who didn't care was humiliating.

Watching her determined expression, her lips pressed tightly together to stifle any sound, Adrian's heart twisted painfully.

He took a step forward, gently wiping a tear from her cheek.

The tears were warm against his hand, burning like fire into his chest.

"It's my fault," he murmured softly, "please, don't cry..."

Adrian had no experience comforting anyone like this. All he could do was apologize again and again, awkwardly brushing away her tears.

But the more he tried, the more her tears fell.

She felt unsteady, disoriented, like everything was surreal and slipping from her grasp. Her vision blurred, and Adrian's image doubled before her eyes. Her mind went blank, and she lost her balance, collapsing forward.

Adrian caught her instinctively, alarmed. "Sara!"