When Love Turns to Ashes Chapter 16

Ethan bowed repeatedly, his face showing satisfied exhaustion.

Then a familiar figure emerged from backstage carrying an enormous bouquet of white lily-of-the-valley, walking elegantly onstage—Sophia Chen.

She looked more mature and poised than five years ago. The way she looked at Ethan radiated undisguised love and pride.

She handed him the flowers, then naturally embraced his waist, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

Under the spotlight, Ethan smiled and held her close. Matching platinum bands on their ring fingers sparkled with happy, piercing light.

The hall erupted again with warm applause and joyful cheers.

Victor looked up at his mother, asking softly: "Mom, is that man a celebrity? He's so handsome."

Victoria didn't answer. She just stared fixedly at that perfect couple onstage, her heart feeling crushed by an invisible hand until she could barely breathe. Unconsciously, she touched her own bare ring finger—just a faint, time-worn band of pale skin remained.

She ultimately didn't even qualify as an "observer"—how ridiculous and redundant.

She didn't wait for the concert to fully end. Pulling her son along, she quietly left the noisy Golden Hall, melting into Vienna's cold night.

Days later, Manhattan.

Victoria drove alone to the abandoned hilltop park on the city's outskirts. This was where, at sixteen, she'd confessed her feelings to Ethan.

The park no longer resembled its former self—overgrown with weeds, facilities crumbling. Even the cherry tree where they'd carved their names had long since died, leaving only bare, stubborn branches pointing at the gray sky.

She walked to that dead tree, reaching out to touch the rough, cracked bark—ice cold.

Cold wind howled past, lifting dead leaves.

Victoria leaned against the frozen trunk, closing her eyes as if crossing through time.

She seemed to see that sunny afternoon again—sixteen-year-old Ethan in his crisp white school uniform, his smile bright enough to melt snow, chasing and playing under the tree with classmates.

And that equally sixteen-year-old, awkward yet proud version of herself, ears burning, mustering all her courage to run up and block his path.

"Ethan... Ethan Brooks! I... I like you! Go out with me!"

In that moment, young love was pure, burning, believing one glance lasted forever.

Tears came without warning, streaming down Victoria's weathered face—scalding, yet unable to warm her frozen heart.

She made no sound, just let tears flow freely as if draining a lifetime of regret and sorrow.

That teenager who'd promised to love him forever had died in her own choices and cruelty. And that boy she'd lost had survived the long night, fought through thorns, and reached his flower-filled promised land.

Wind kept blowing. Dead leaves whirled at her feet.

Finally, she slowly opened her eyes. Through blurred tears, she gazed at the city's distant, hazy skyline, her expression complex and indecipherable, ultimately settling into deathly calm acceptance.

She had lost him.

Lost him forever.

Every single day of her remaining years, that loss would shadow her, becoming her unhealable wound and eternal punishment.

And Ethan—he would soar forever in his blue sky, never pausing for her again.