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“Have I ever told you how much I dislike mermaids?”
At his cold, derisive tone, Ayla bit her lip.
“I’ll warn you now—don’t expect anything from me as a husband.”
Theodore Devonshire hated Ayla Panopaea.
It was an unchanging truth — an axiom that would never alter.
Ayla was a mermaid, and because of mermaids like her, he had lost his brother.
But you don’t know that.
“Theo, please… remember me.”
The person from the past you’ve been desperately searching for is me.
***
“Ayla. What on earth have you been doing all this time?”
Theodore’s hands trembled violently.
The sight of the bl＊＊d trickling from the wound torn open across Ayla’s pale skin took his breath away.
“So this is what it meant… to see the future?”
“Am I useless to you now?”
Her voice was worn thin; she spoke as if weighing her own worth on a scale.
The day he met Ayla’s dry, exhausted gaze, Theodore’s world collapsed.
He knew that the damage he had done to her could never be undone.
