When Leaving Became My Blessing

The moment I opened my phone, my eyes locked on a headline that struck me like a slap: "Isolde and Elena's Relationship Revealed, Wedding Photos Leaked!"

The images were everywhere. Elena, smiling radiant and carefree, her hand adorned with the ring Isolde had picked for her.

I paused, then clicked 'like'-not because I wanted to, but because it was the final act of farewell.

The next morning, I saw yet another post on my feed-pictures of Isolde and Elena in their marital home. The life I thought was mine.

I deleted everything. Every photo, every memory. It felt like tearing out pieces of my soul.

I moved through the motions of the day-brushing my hair, putting on makeup, and sitting down to a meal with friends. But all I felt was emptiness.

When I returned home, I began packing.

Isolde walked in, his gaze falling on the suitcase on the floor. "Where are you going?"

"Just needed some time away. The weather's nice. Thought I'd take a short trip."

He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the passport on the table."Why is your passport out?"

"A friend recommended a travel agency. They've got good deals. I thought I'd check it out."

He didn't say anything for a moment.Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled me into his arms."I've been busy these past few days. But tomorrow, we'll go to the stables. You've been wanting to ride again, haven't you?"

The next day, we arrived at the stables. As soon as we dismounted, my eyes landed on Elena. She walked towards u. She slid into the space beside Isolde, her hand brushing his arm.

The entire day, Isolde barely glanced at her, his attention fixed on me. But Elena was there.

After the ride, we went to the lounge area. I saw Elena surrounded by a group of people.

"Well, well, isn't this our little You? The one who threw Isolde aside... now look at her, lost, pathetic."

One of the men sneered, "I heard your father wants to marry you off to some old, washed-up gambler. You're better off with us, girl. We have money, power-everything you need."

I heard footsteps, and Isolde's face appeared. He stormed over to the group, his hand moving like lightning. He kicked one of them harshly, his voice a low growl. "Shut your mouths, you worthless fools."

"We're sorry, Isolde! Please, forgive us!"

"Get out!" he snapped.

The men scrambled to flee.

Isolde's attention turned to Elena, who clung to him, tears streaming down her face as she buried herself in his chest.

"I'm scared..." she sobbed.

Isolde's eyes darkened, his silence heavy before he quickly adjusted her clothing, wrapping her in his coat. "Don't worry, I'm here."

He scooped her up and began pushing through the crowd. But in the chaos, he accidentally knocked me down.

Pain shot through my body as I hit the floor, blood pouring from my forehead. My vision blurred, and the world seemed to spin as I felt cold sweat run down my body.

I thought back to the times I'd fallen, how he'd been frantic to care for me. Now, though, he didn't even notice me.

The night dragged on, pain keeping me awake. Isolde didn't return.

The next morning, Elena sent me a video-a video of Isolde sitting by her bed, wiping sweat from her brow, his face full of concern.

Hours later, my phone rang. Isolde's cold voice cut through the line. "Hospital. Room 703. Get here now."

I grabbed my bag and rushed to the hospital, the smell of antiseptic stinging my nose. When I entered the room, Elena was propped up in bed, bandaged and pale.

Isolde stood by her side.

"You're here," Isolde said.

"You called me. What's going on?"

"Ava, you sent those men after Elena, didn't you?"

I froze, then laughed bitterly. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," he snapped. "They named you. You nearly got Elena killed."

I glanced at Elena. A fleeting, triumphant smirk crossed her face.

"It wasn't me,"

"I don't know them."

Isolde's gaze softened for a moment. "Ava, after ten years, you know what I think. Don't hurt her for me."

I stumbled back, my back hitting the cold pillar behind me.

I laughed bitterly, the sound breaking in the air. I remembered the boy by the river, his promise: "I'll always believe in you."

Suddenly, Elena lifted a glass of bright lime juice, swirling it gently. "Drink it, and I'll forget everything."

The lime juice-my worst fear. One sip and my throat would burn, my body reacting violently, as if each drop brought me closer to the edge.