Breaking Free

Isaac remained silent for most of the day, his eyes avoiding mine as if looking at me was too painful. The weight of his earlier words pressed heavily on my heart, and I found myself lost in memories of our time together. I remembered how he used to comfort me on those secret nights, how he was my refuge. But every time I tried to picture those nights, it wasn't Isaac's face that appeared—it was Dante's.

As night fell, exhaustion and emotional turmoil left me drained. I was about to close my eyes when Isaac's voice sliced through the darkness. "You deserve everything that's happened to you," he said, his tone laced with a mixture of anger and hurt. "The way your aunt treated you, how Dante turned on you, losing your child… and now, this."