Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right

Drake carried Debra downstairs on his back.

A warm teardrop hit his shoulder. He frowned, glancing sideways at her unconscious face. Even when she passed out, her brows stayed furrowed. Tears kept soaking into his shirt.

"What a fool," he muttered.

Andrew slumped against the wall. The tiny attic room glowed with remnants of Debra's childhood. This had been her sanctuary years ago.

Back then, when her parents were busy with business, they'd leave her at the Potter Mansion for weeks. Young Debra's first word wasn't Mama or Papa. It was Brother.

She'd trailed him everywhere like a shadow.

The mansion's vast emptiness scared her at night. She'd cry until he moved her bed near the attic's stained- glass window. His mother had joked that he would have a good husband someday, just like his dad.

Debra's laughter had thawed the mansion's cold halls. She'd painted his gray world in color.

Andrew looked at those familiar items and struggled to his feet. His chest burned like coals as he flicked open a lighter. Flames licked at stacked newspapers in the corner.

The fire grew fast and devoured memories.

When Debra was little, she once said that she would marry a prince one day. He had once thought that he was that prince.

But he wasn't. He could never be.

When Andrew stepped out of the attic, it was a struggle for him, as if every movement took immense effort.

"Sir." Barton's voice pierced the smoke.

He froze at the attic entrance, then shouted, "Fire. Get water!"

Alarms shrieked through the mansion. Before he could take further action, Andrew stopped him.

"Wait."

"But the..."

"Wait."

Andrew decided to let it burn. Those traces of Debra's painful past should be reduced to ashes.

He'd kept these relics selfishly,

clinging to sweet memories. Now they were daggers waiting to stab her heart. They shouldn't exist anymore.

Downstairs, Liza and Garland stumbled out in pajamas.noveldrama

"What is going on? The house is on fire?"

"Holy shit! It's really a fire."

Erica and Randy rubbed sleep-crust

from their

eyes. They had the feeling that tonight was going to be far from peaceful.

First, someone was renovating, and then it was the fire alarm.

The servants and bodyguards rushed to the third floor to put out the flames. Ivan looked up from the first floor. The fire's glow flickered in his narrowed eyes.