Ethan gritted his teeth, looking away. "I took a fertility spell."
I hadn't imagined he'd go this far. I stepped back. "Ethan, you're insane."

He gazed at me, smiling bitterly. "Yeah, I'm crazy."
"Anna," he stepped closer, "but it's fine. If it's for you, I'm willing."
"You wanted a child, right? Now we have one. Can we get together again?"

I shook my head, baffled—I'd never said I wanted a child. "No."
"Ethan, I've been plain enough. I don't love you. Even if you carry this child, I won't love you."

"Love is gone, the mirror's shattered—we're done."
Ethan's eyes reddened; his voice was low. "Is that so? I understand. I've bothered you."
He laughed bitterly, turning away, his hunched back pitiful.
I pressed my lips, heart tangled, but I did nothing and returned home.

Time passed, long enough I nearly forgot Ethan.
I saw him again on an ordinary night.
His belly still large ,he curled up in a corner outside my house.
Approaching, I heard him whisper about the cold.
In moonlight, his face was deathly pale.
I frowned, checking him, finding vicious spell creatures hidden in him.
Who did this?
But when he woke, he said he cast them himself.
"I did wrong. I deserved punishment. Anna, I didn't mean to show up."
"Sorry for troubling you."

Seeing the once-vibrant Ethan reduced to this, I fell silent.
As he reached the door, I called,"Ethan, have a drink before you go."
His face brightened with relief.
He drank without suspicion, and I carried him back indoors.
Sighing ,I thought, we loved once.
Even parting, I couldn't watch him torment himself.
I drew out his spell creatures. His belly shrank instantly.
All done, I cast a forgetfulness spell.
I hoped he'd forget all his pain and burdens—and look forward instead. As if we had never known each other.
When Ethan woke, there was no trace of love in his eyes.
He asked who I was.
I shook my head. "Just a stranger."
To avoid complications, I hurried him down the mountain.
He reverted to his old, distant self.
Only when I saw him drive away in his black Rolls-Royce did I relax.
But as the car idled, he lingered—handing a silver "safety charm" amulet he'd once given me, stroking it with longing.
Then, under his breath, came the faintest of laughs.
"You're still so foolish... How could you ever be a burden to me?"
Ethan sat there through the night and only drove off the following day.
Leaves crunched under the wheels, scattered by the wind.
"I'm letting you go, as if letting myself go."

From then on, no black Rolls-Royce lingered at the mountain's base.