I know how...

With a soul-searching gaze, Tryson fixed his eyes on Angel, and for the first time in a long while, he truly saw her—not just the woman he once knew, but the one forged by pain and heartbreak.

It was as if every moment of her suffering had etched itself into her eyes, and he could no longer ignore the truth that haunted him: Her scars, the weight of her past, had been shaped by his own hands, by his own failure to be there when she needed him the most.

The knowledge that his absence had not only allowed her pain to fester but had worsened it with his reckless decisions was suffocating.

He could hardly breathe under the crushing weight of that realization.

If only I had been there. If only I hadn't let her slip through my fingers...

The guilt gnawed at him as he shifted his gaze downward, trying to escape the intensity of her stare, the raw vulnerability in her eyes.

With a ragged breath, he finally spoke, the words heavy and filled with a sense of desperate resolution.

"I understand the pain you're feeling, Angel, but believe me, I am determined to make amends for everything that has transpired."

Angel looked at him with an expression caught somewhere between sorrow and disbelief.

Her voice, soft but firm, trembled as she replied, "Why, Tryson? Why now? What makes you believe that I would want you back in my life? You were the one who allowed me to be broken, left me to pick up the pieces alone, and now you're asking for forgiveness? I have changed. I have found someone who truly sees me, who cherishes me in ways you never did. You..." Her voice cracked, a tear threatening to fall as her words dissolved into silence, the ache in her chest overwhelming her.

The room, once full of tension, was now suffocating with an unbearable quiet.

Tryson stood frozen, speechless, unable to find the words to mend the fracture between them. His heart beat loudly in his chest as he waited, hoping for some sign of reconciliation, but none came.

Angel's resolve only seemed to grow stronger.

She stood tall, forcing her emotions down as she exhaled sharply, preparing to leave. "I'm really not in the mood for this conversation, Tryson," she said, her voice thick with a combination of frustration and sorrow. "Can you just let me go?"

But Tryson, desperate to make things right, couldn't let her slip away again. "Tell me, Angel. Please, I need to hear those words from you," he insisted, his voice raw, pleading. "I need to know why."

Angel's face twisted with a deep hurt as she looked away. "I don't need to try, Tryson. You already know the extent of my disappointment. My pain is etched into every corner of me, and I have no place in your life anymore. I don't need anything from you—not your love, not your pity. We are strangers now. So tell me, does your family, the media really want me in your life?"

Her words cut through the air like shards of glass, each one dripping with sorrow and disillusionment.

The silence that followed was deafening. Tryson opened his mouth, but no words came. His heart seemed to shatter in that moment, realizing just how much damage he had caused.

"Angel, please… forgive me," he whispered, his voice barely a breath, filled with the deepest regret.

But Angel, her eyes now clouded with the weight of years of hurt, wasn't ready to offer him solace.

"Tell me, Tryson, what are you truly apologizing for?" she demanded, her voice low, almost bitter. "Is it for the mistake of thinking we were ever something more than strangers? Or is it because you regret the decision to step into my life?"

Her gaze pierced him with a raw intensity, her heart laid bare before him.

"Honestly, for everything," Tryson finally admitted, his voice shaking with the weight of his confession.

Angel scoffed, bitter tears welling in her eyes as she shook her head.

"There's no point in apologizing now," she murmured. "It's all in the past. We're both left with nothing but the ruins of what we were. I've lost on every front. I couldn't reach my goals, and I had to watch my own humiliation play out. I was thrown away, discarded as if I meant nothing."

Her voice wavered with barely contained emotion, her hands trembling as they curled into fists by her side.

In that moment, the pain of the past—months of torment, betrayal, and heartache—came rushing back like a tidal wave, crashing over her.

But Angel refused to break. She would not show him how much his abandonment had cost her. She would not allow him to see how much she still ached for the life they could have had.

"I'm leaving," she said, her voice low, determined, and final.

She turned to the door, her hand gripping the handle as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded in this storm.

As she stepped into the hallway, she leaned against the wall, taking slow, steadying breaths to hold back the tears threatening to escape.

She had sworn to herself, vowed to never shed another tear for the mistakes of her past, no matter how unbearable the weight of them became.

Her fingers shook as she pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly until she landed on a photo—her mother's face staring back at her.

The resemblance was undeniable, the woman in the photo sharing Angel's features, though she was a little fuller, more mature.

Her mother had been the only real family she'd ever known, and now, she was gone. The pain of losing her mother, the woman who had been her rock, overwhelmed her in that moment.

It was her mother who had pushed her to sign the contract, to endure the hardship in exchange for survival, but in the end, it had only led to more loss.

She had no one left. No one to lean on, no one to trust.

Tryson, the man she had once believed would stand by her, had cast her aside once she was no longer of use.

His love had been conditional, and when the terms no longer suited him, she had been discarded like an old, worn-out object.

Just as she was about to leave the hallway, her phone buzzed, startling her. She glanced at the screen, and her heart nearly stopped as she saw the name on the caller ID.

Her father.

A wave of terror gripped her chest.

What did he want now?

She couldn't bear to hear his voice, not after everything. She quickly declined the call, but it rang again, more persistent this time, as if demanding an answer.

She let the call go, but then, the familiar buzz of a message arrived, and with a trembling hand, Angel opened it. The words were simple, chilling, like a threat hanging in the air:

"Angel, I know where you are. You might want to run away from me, but I promise you, I'll come fetch you."