A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

The moment Matilda’s eyes met his, fragile as a spooked deer caught in headlights, Yvan felt his heart being torn to shreds. He couldn’t fathom why he felt this way; her pain was his pain, a shared torment that bound them inseparably.

Curled up into herself, Matilda clutched her arms as if seeking comfort in their embrace. Her voice was frall yet desperate, “I didn’t… I’m not a killer…”

Who, five years ago, had cast her into this relentless maelstrom of fate?

Yvan stepped closer, his voice a whispering balm. “It’s me, Matilda.”

Lifting her tearful eyes to his, she looked at Yvan with a lost gaze. “It’s you.”

The chill that ran through Yvan’s veins was mirrored in her eyes, where he saw his reflection, diminished and faint.

She murmured, “Yvan, you could leave me behind, but I… I just can’t do the same. It’s such a pity.”

Such a pity, indeed.

“Yvan, please… no more curses,” she pleaded.

Yvan’s body trembled. He yearned to hug her, yet he lacked the courage.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch her, a woman marred by wounds both seen and unseen.

Matilda, hands gently pressed against her belly, asked, “Is the baby still there?”

With eyes rimmed red, Yvan slowly closed his own, the truth heavy on his lips. “The pregnancy was too fragile in the beginning. We lost the child.”

A laugh escaped Matilda, bitter and broken. Tears streamed down her face as her body convulsed with sobs. Through her blurred vision, she saw the pain etched onto Yvan’s face, fueling her laughter with a tragic sense of joy.

“Yvan, I didn’t want this baby. Anything tied to you, I reject! That child would’ve known nothing but hardship. I say it’s a blessing it left us early!” Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

Yvan’s grip tightened on her shoulders, his voice laced with anguish. “How can you detest me this much?”

“Detest?” Matilda’s eyes widened, her gaze searing into him. “Yvan, you wanted me to atone, didn’t you? You love Rachel so desperately, don’t you? Why, then, does my child’s loss trouble you?”

“How dare you bring up Rachel!” Yvan’s retort was instinctive and swift. “What right do you have…”

But his words halted midway, the cutting remarks that once flowed so easily now stuck in his

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throat.

Why? Why couldn’t he say them?

Matilda’s laugh was laced with scorn, “What’s wrong? Ready to label me a murderer again? Fine. I’ve got enough blood on my hands already, and now I’ve added my own child’s to the count!”

Her words wounded others as much as they wounded herself.

Yvan’s gaze was filled with pain, his fingers tensing. “How can you be so cruel?”

“Let’s all be miserable together then!” Her laughter was wild, each chuckle a hammer strike against the very core of Yvan’s soul. “You want revenge? You want to lock me up? Go on! Yvan, unleash all your fury on me! I’m telling you, every single thing you’ve done to me, I remember it all. You better not regret it because if I don’t get you, someone else will. The world will.”

Never forgive, never forget, never tread the same path, never reconcile. Preserve every ounce of pain he’s given, every mistake he’s made. Give him no chances, no redemption. Loss is irreversible. Should he ever come to his senses, filled with remorse, let his own sins consume

him.

If her love and hate have reached a dead end, let it all shatter into oblivion!