The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 152: [Volume 1] - - Should just die.

In this desolate place, Esme found herself thinking about fading away. What if she just disappeared into this nothingness? The thought wasn’t as frightening as it once had been. Here, at least, there were no painful memories, no reminders of the turmoil that had followed her for years. Here, in the darkness, she didn’t have to remember the moments that ruined her life. The only solace she had—the only sliver of happiness she could cling to—were the memories of her life before the accident. Before everything had changed.

The memory of her mother flickered to life in her mind, a vivid image that seemed so far removed from the present. Her mother’s comforting face, always rushing to her side whenever she cried or stumbled, filled her with warmth she hadn’t felt in so long. Her mother had been her protector, the one who would shield her from the world’s cruelties. "Don’t worry, child," her mother used to say softly, pulling her close, "As long as I’m alive, I’ll always protect you."

A small, sad smile tugged at Esme’s lips as she recalled her younger self, clinging to her mother’s neck, full of innocent curiosity. "And what if you die?" she had asked, her voice light with the carelessness only children have. Her mother had smiled back, that same warm, loving smile she always gave, and replied, "Then my soul will protect you, Esme." Esme, just a little girl at the time, had buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, panicked at the mere idea. "No, no! Don’t die! You don’t need to protect me. I’ll protect you when I grow up."

They had both laughed then, a pure, joyful sound. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, holding her close as if she could shield her from all the harm in the world.

But the memory twisted, as it always did, turning into something darker. The warmth vanished, replaced by cold bitterness. The accident. The day that everything in her life had changed. The image of her mother, now cold and distant, filled Esme’s mind. Her mother’s face no longer held the love and warmth she had once known. Instead, there was only hatred and anger.

"Why the hell are you in front of me?!" her mother had screamed one night, her voice slurred with alcohol, her eyes bloodshot and filled with loathing. Esme had been just a child, trembling in fear, too shocked to move. "You’re the one who killed your father! It’s all your fault! You should never have been born!"

The words hit like a knife, sharp and devastating. Esme had stood there, frozen, as her mother’s venomous words sank into her. "Get away from me! Don’t ever stand in front of me!" Her mother’s voice was a vicious, cruel echo that had played over and over in her mind for years.

Esme had retreated to the corner of the room, her small frame shaking with silent sobs. Her mother had turned her back on her, drowning her sorrows in alcohol, staring at her with hatred that felt so misplaced, so foreign. But it had been real. The warmth and love Esme had known were gone, replaced by a woman who no longer saw her as her daughter, but as a reminder of everything lost.

In the dark void, Esme’s heart ached. She had lived through that nightmare so many times, each time hoping it would be different, that the memory would stop haunting her. But it never did. She could still feel the weight of those words, the guilt, the grief, and the overwhelming sense of loneliness that had followed her ever since.

Sitting there in the darkness, Esme felt that familiar pull. That voice in her mind whispering that it might not be so bad to disappear into the void forever, to stop feeling the pain, to stop reliving those memories. But she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to, something kept her tethered to the world outside this abyss. A faint, stubborn glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.

Even here, in the darkness, that hope flickered faintly—like a fragile flame in the wind.

Esme was on the brink of surrender, closing her eyes as despair enveloped her like a heavy shroud. With a swift kick, she sent her chair crashing to the ground, the loud clatter echoing in the vast emptiness around her. The sharp pain blooming at the back of her head shocked her back to awareness. Does it still hurt, even in dreams? she wondered, disoriented and vulnerable.

But then, a thunderous roar shattered the silence. It was Beom. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Her eyes flew open just as the massive tiger thundered toward her. She lay on the ground, rooted in place, her heart racing as Beom barreled forward, his powerful limbs propelling him closer. Yet, instead of fear, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was not just any tiger; Beom was her protector, and she felt no need to flee.

As Beom reached her, he did something unexpected. Instead of halting at a distance, he lowered his massive head, his rough tongue sweeping across her face. The warmth of his touch surprised her, a gesture of affection she had never experienced from him before.

As she reached up, her fingers brushed her cheek, slick with his saliva. The sensation sent a jolt of emotion through her; she met his gaze, astonished. There was a glint in his eyes—was that a smile? What are you surprised for? it seemed to ask.

Just as she was absorbing this tender moment, everything shifted. As she tugged at her hair in disbelief, the world around her rippled and dissolved into a bright, sprawling garden, rich with life and color. She knew this place well; it was her father’s garden, a sanctuary that had once been filled with laughter and love.

The sight of the vibrant blooms and lush greenery flooded her with memories. Her father had poured his heart into this garden, nurturing each plant with care. But after his passing, her mother had abandoned the house, leaving the garden to languish in neglect. Yet here it was, alive and thriving, as if untouched by time.