When Love is a Question Mark
Chapter 53: Guilt?

Chapter 53: Guilt?

At exactly 11 p.m., the calm night was broken as Lily glanced at her phone and sighed. She shifted in her seat, signaling it was time to leave. "It’s getting late, Zinnia. I should head home," she said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Zinnia’s smile faded, her brows knitting together with concern. She didn’t like the thought of Lily leaving so late, especially when the streets were quiet and dark. "Are you sure? Why don’t you stay the night?" Zinnia offered, worry lacing her voice. "It’s late, and I don’t want you driving at this hour."

Lily shook her head, her expression calm but firm. "I already texted my driver. He’s waiting outside," she explained, giving Zinnia a reassuring smile. "I’ll be fine, I promise."

Zinnia wanted to protest but knew there was no changing Lily’s mind. With a reluctant sigh, Zinnia stood and followed her to the door. "At least let me walk you out," she insisted, worry evident in how she lingered beside her friend.

Together, they stepped into the crisp night air, the quiet hum of the city surrounding them. A black sedan idled by the gate, headlights cutting through the darkness. Just as Lily had said, her driver was already waiting. Zinnia’s heart felt heavy as she watched her friend prepare to leave.

"Take care, okay?" Zinnia said, her voice soft with concern.

"I will," Lily assured her, pulling her into a tight hug. "And thank you for tonight. I really needed this."

Zinnia smiled, the warmth of the embrace offering some comfort. "Anytime. You know where to find me."

With that, Lily slipped into the car, the engine rumbling to life. Zinnia stood at the gate until the car disappeared down the road, leaving the street eerily quiet once more. She sighed, feeling a strange emptiness without Lily’s presence. It had been comforting to have her around, even for just a few hours.

Reluctantly, Zinnia turned and walked back toward the house, her thoughts still lingering on her friend. The kitchen lights were dim, the space feeling emptier now. She headed toward the kitchen, half-expecting to find Samuel there, but the room was quiet. The counters were spotless, as if he had tidied up before going to bed.

A soft beep from her phone broke the silence. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Samuel.

"I went to bed. Didn’t want to disturb your time with Lily. Goodnight, Zinnia."

A small smile touched her lips as she read the message. It was thoughtful of him to give her space, though part of her wished he had stayed. She quickly typed a reply, her fingers moving across the screen.

"Goodnight, Samuel."

Setting her phone aside, Zinnia turned to the tea set they had used earlier. The cups were still on the table, the tea now cold. She gathered the dishes and took them to the sink, her movements slow and thoughtful as she washed each piece. The gentle clink of porcelain against the counter was the only sound in the quiet house.

Once everything was cleaned and put away, Zinnia dried her hands and headed upstairs to her bedroom. The weight of the day pressed down on her, exhaustion tugging at her mind. She slipped into bed, pulling the covers up as she stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts wandered to Samuel, to Lily, and to the chaos her life had become. Slowly, sleep began to pull her under, her mind finally quieting as she drifted off.

---

Meanwhile, across the city, Lily’s car pulled into the driveway of a modest yet charming apartment complex. The building was well-kept, with a small garden by the entrance, filled with flowers that bloomed even under the night’s shadow. It wasn’t the grandest of homes, but it was cozy and welcoming, a place that felt like home.

As the car came to a stop, Lily stepped out and stretched, the long day catching up to her. Her mother appeared at the front door, waiting with a warm smile.

"Lily!" her mother exclaimed, rushing to her with a mix of joy and mild scolding. "You just got back from abroad, and the first thing you do is run off to see your friend? What about me?"

Lily grinned sheepishly as she stepped into her mother’s embrace, the familiar scent of home washing over her. "I’m sorry, Mom. I had to see Zinnia," she explained, meeting her mother’s playful pout.

Her mother, a petite woman with soft, graying hair and bright eyes, gave her a mock glare before breaking into a laugh. "Oh, I know how close you two are. I’m just glad you’re back."

"I missed you too," Lily said sincerely, squeezing her mother’s hand as they walked inside.

They settled into the living room, the cozy space filled with soft furniture. Lily’s mother wasted no time catching up, asking about her travels and work. Lily answered as best she could, but her mind kept drifting back to the news about James.

Eventually, the conversation slowed, and Lily excused herself, heading to her bedroom. The familiar space hadn’t changed much—a simple room with framed pictures and a small desk by the window. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

As she lay down, her mind refused to quiet. The news about James had shaken her more than she’d let on. Could he really be alive? The question swirled in her mind. They had searched for him for so long, exhausting every lead, every hope. And now, after all this time, he was back, as if nothing had happened.

Lily tossed and turned, guilt pressing on her. It was her fault, wasn’t it? If she had done more, pushed harder, maybe they would have found him sooner. Maybe things would be different. But no matter how many times she replayed the events, the truth remained: James’s disappearance was out of her control. The tsunami had been a force of nature, unstoppable and unpredictable.

Still, the guilt lingered, heavy on her chest. All this time, Zinnia had carried the weight of James’s absence, and Lily had failed her. What kind of friend was she? she thought bitterly.

Her thoughts wouldn’t settle, wouldn’t let her rest. Even though she knew it wasn’t her fault, her heart said otherwise. And as the hours passed, Lily lay awake, unable to escape the guilt and confusion that gripped her.

Sleep, it seemed, would not come easily that night.