They Stole My Seven Years Chapter 07

They Stole My Seven Years Chapter 07

The heat vanished instantly.

Only dead silence remained.

It was quiet enough that I could clearly hear Adrian’s heartbeat pounding like a drum.

After a long while, he said hoarsely, “Right.”

Adrian and I began a cold war.

To be precise, I gave him the silent treatment on my own.

He pushed aside all his work and stayed by my side.

He made me morning coffee, curled up with me on the couch for old movies, and warmed my favorite blanket in advance.

Just like the years we dated.

Only now, every time he opened his mouth, he called me sweetheart.

“Sweetheart, your coffee is on the table.”

The word made my skin prickle.

I couldn’t help asking, “Are we really legally married?”

“When did that happen?”

Adrian lowered his eyes in disappointment.

“We signed the marriage license 7 years ago.”

“But there was no ceremony.”

The moment the words left his mouth, his face went deathly pale, as if he had remembered something unbearably painful.

“Someone took over your body and said you were dead.”

“I didn’t believe her.”

“I forced her out of your body, but later…”

I watched his eyes turn red little by little in front of me.

Panicked, I stood and pulled him into my arms.

“It’s okay now.”

“She was lying.”

“Look. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

The moment I finished speaking, the spectator feed in front of me went wild.

“So shamelessly manipulative.”

“Did the villain’s character collapse? From ruthless monster to clingy sad boy? Wild.”

“Right, wasn’t the original owner killed in a car accident in London?”

My gaze sharpened.

The spectator feed said I had died in a car accident.

But my last memory was clearly sitting in my apartment, grabbing my hair while rushing through my thesis.

I looked up and asked Adrian hesitantly, “7 years ago, did that Host say how I died?”

“Was it a car accident?”

Adrian’s expression went blank.

He mechanically pulled out a smile.

“Babe, it’s over.”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

Looking at his eyes, which were on the verge of collapse, made my nose sting.

But I still cupped Adrian’s face and said seriously, “Adrian, I want to know.”

“I know you must have investigated it.”

Adrian took me to a place.

It was the academy courtyard garden where we had buried the time capsule at St. Augustine.

I stared blankly at the familiar spot.

Adrian crouched down, picked up the shovel in his hand, and began digging with practiced movements.

“You used to say this was your lucky spot.”

“You said that as long as you lay here for a while, you’d definitely have sweet dreams that night.”

I dug up those scattered fragments from the corner of my memory.

Just as I was about to tease him, dense lines of text appeared before my eyes.

They were all emotional comments.

“I remember the last time the villain dug here, he almost froze to death.”

“I’m not crying, you are. Did the villain bury his wife’s investigation file here because she said this was her lucky spot?”

I froze and remembered what Ms. Carter had told me on Alumni Weekend.

She had said Adrian spent an entire night here last winter.

I stood there silently, looking at Adrian.

For once, I had nothing to say.

Adrian had already stood, holding a familiar metal box.

His head was lowered, and the fingers resting on the box kept shaking.

I turned my head away and let out a controlled breath.

I did not look at the box.

I only wrapped my arms around Adrian’s waist and pressed my face hard against his chest.

“Adrian, I’m here.”

“I’m alive.”

“Hug me.”

“7 years…”

Hot tears fell into my collar.

“They all said you were crazy.”

“Only I knew I was the one going crazy.”

“She said you were dead. I didn’t believe her.”

“But I saw the photos.”

“Selena, there was so much blood…”