Chapter 3

I gripped the car door for stability, trying to suppress the agony. Yzail's frustration was clear.

"Lanaya, mercy is a virtue. Zolenn has suffered enough. Are you trying to push her to her demise?"

His words echoed the concern he once showed me when I was bloodied after Zolenn's assault. Now, that same worry was focused on her. What had shifted? Why had he turned against me to defend her?

Mustering my remaining strength, I replied,

"You have a point. She can either cut her own tendons or face death. Those are the only ways I'll forgive her!"

Yzail's forehead veins bulged with anger. He had looked similarly enraged when he called Zolenn vicious for hurting me before.

"She can no longer play piano. Must you be so ruthless? I don't want a fiancée seen as cold-hearted. No wonder you're friendless if you cling to grudges like this!"

His venomous words cut deep. The disgust on his face—how had I missed it all along?

So this was how he viewed me now: the frigid, isolated woman, while Zolenn became the misunderstood victim of a "careless mistake."

The man who once swore to guard me with his life no longer stood beside me. He was gone.

Overwhelmed by abdominal pain, I fell. Yzail caught me and noticed blood on my dress. His expression softened as he realized.

"I see now. You're just upset due to your period, aren't you? Fine, I won't force an apology today, but don't be so unreasonable next time."

Barely able to speak, I whispered, "Get me to the hospital..."

Still thinking it was menstrual pain, he searched the car for pain relievers.

Meanwhile, Zolenn knelt before me, feigning remorse.

"I'm sorry, Lanaya. I didn't mean to anger you so!" But before she could finish her act, Yzail rushed to lift her up.

"Why are you kneeling to her?" he gently scolded.

Then he turned to me, his tone harsh. "Lanaya, haven't you caused enough trouble? You don't want her to curse herself by kneeling, do you?"

As Zolenn pretended to faint in Yzail's arms, I saw him panic as he once did for me.

But this time, it was for her.

While he raced through red lights to get Zolenn to the hospital, I lay on the ground, consumed by pain and silence.

Later, in the emergency room, the doctor said I needed to be admitted to protect the baby.

I instinctively dialed Yzail's number, only to realize how ingrained that habit was. Fortunately, he didn't answer.

After a decade of love, we had become strangers.

"No need to save it," I told the doctor. "I want the surgery today."

When I woke after the procedure, my uncle had arranged a plane ticket for me. The flight was on Yzail's wedding day.

Seven days remained—just enough time to leave everything behind. Yzail was right about one thing: life continues. From now on, I would detach myself from all past joys and sorrows.