But what he failed to understand was that Zoe desired nothing more than Evan's genuine heart.
She wasn't greedy, not one bit.
Evan kissed her forehead tenderly, his voice filled with affection. "Goodnight, darling, see you tomorrow."
He closed his eyes contentedly, holding her tightly as if she was his life itself.
As he drifted off into deep sleep, his grip loosened gradually.
Zoe opened her eyes, gently removed his hand, and slipped out of bed, her feet bare against the cold floor.
The knife, bright under the moonlight, gleamed ominously.
In the instant the fruit knife pierced her stomach, she struggled to turn her head, stealing one last glance at him.
"In the next life... let's not... meet again."
She tried to form the words, straining to utter them completely, but they fell short.
A pungent smell of blood spread, saturating the entire bedroom.
Zoe's eyes closed, her face turning almost translucently pale.
Evan, still asleep, frowned slightly and reached out to touch her belly.
He opened his eyes to a bright morning, sunlight piercing his face through the forgotten curtains.
He squinted, his head throbbing, the unfamiliar scent making him nauseous.
Moving his arm, Evan sensed something amiss – a wet, sticky sensation. He pulled his hand from her abdomen.
Blood? So much blood?
He snapped fully awake, jerking the covers off.
The sight that met him in the next moment shattered his heart into pieces.
"My... Zoe?"
The sea of red blood before him nearly made him faint.
Without changing his blood-stained pajamas or bothering to put on shoes, Evan scooped her up and stepped off the bed.
No... No...
"It's... too late. She's not breathing... I'm sorry..."
The doctor's words, full of regret, cut into him like knives, each one drawing fresh blood.
Evan's eyes reddened, his demeanor wild as he grabbed the doctor by the collar, shaking and shouting, "Quack! You haven't even examined her! How can you say that?! How dare you!"
Other doctors attempted to intervene, but his strength was overwhelming, rendering their efforts futile.
"I'm sorry, I understand your grief... There are no vital signs... Please accept my condolences..."
The doctor, seasoned in matters of life and death, remained calm, though his claim of being unaffected was far from truthful.
"To hell with your condolences! Save her now! Bring her back to me! Do you hear me?!"
His eyes seemed ready to bleed, his screams those of a madman.
Edward arrived at the hospital to witness this scene, momentarily stunned.
Condolences? For what?
"What happened?" he asked a nearby nurse, a sense of foreboding settling in.
The nurse whispered, "This gentleman's wife... took her own life... She's passed away, and he's having a breakdown..."
Edward's mind exploded into a blank.
Suicide? Passed away? Who?
He stared disbelievingly at the gurney covered in white sheets, unable to move forward.
"Sir, please accept our condolences... She's gone..."
"Quacks! All of you are quacks!" His accusations turned into sobs as he released the doctor, collapsing to the ground.
"She said... she would go to W city with me today..."
One of the nurses, unable to hold back, burst into tears.
Trembling, Edward peeled back the sheet, revealing a face so pale it could not be paler.
Suicide?
Red-eyed, Edward strode towards Evan, hoisted him up, and unleashed punch after punch onto his face.
Evan didn't dodge.
