Chapter 8
Her tone was cold and righteous, as if delivering a moral verdict.
I felt nothing but disgust.
“The person standing here acting like a saint is the very one who nearly
got him killed.”
“You ruined everything–and now you want to clear your name with a few harsh questions?”
“Aria, dignity is a beautiful thing. If you’ve lost yours, don’t pretend you
still have it.”
Her expression changed instantly, her lips pale.
“You’re being petty. I’ve explained it so many times–nothing ever
happened between Erik and me. He came to the war zone on his own. I
didn’t even know he was coming.”
I let out a short laugh, enraged by her words.
“Really? You say there was no contact, yet he always showed up
whenever your foundation was short on funds?”
“Go count how many times he wired money to you–\$3,000, \$5,000, \
$50,000. Every transfer perfectly timed, like you called and he
answered.”
Aria’s face turned ashen, her breathing unsteady.
Chapter 8
“I… I never asked him to donate.”
2/4
I raised a hand to stop her. “Enough acting. There’s no law that says war
reporters can’t be the third party in someone’s marriage–human
nature is complicated, I get that.”
“But please, don’t stand at my front door pretending to be some holy
martyr.”
Her face fell completely, as if someone had slapped her hard.
3
“You’re spewing nonsense. I never tried to destroy your marriage. I
don’t even want to be with Erik.”
I nodded calmly.
“How convenient. I never planned on standing in the way of your great love either. Do whatever you want.”
“However, if he wakes up, please tell him one thing for me: unless it’s
about the divorce, don’t contact me again.”
With those words, I brushed past her shoulder without hesitation and
walked into the elevator.
Martha followed close behind, holding Elara in one arm while using her free hand to press the elevator button.
Her gaze was sharp enough to cut glass–she didn’t say a word, but her
expression screamed, *“One more word and I’ll knock someone out.‘
I cut off all contact with Eric completely.
Chapter 8
I changed my number, deleted my old social media accounts, and
moved in with Martha in her little house in Montana, bringing only
Elara with me.
3/4
Her home wasn’t fancy, but it was quiet. Her husband worked away
from home for long periods, and her son was already in college out of
state.
Every day, I raised chickens, fished, and tended to the garden with my
daughter. In a way, I was living a “retired life.”
It was surprisingly simple–and surprisingly joyful.
I didn’t return to the city Eric and I had once lived in until Elara turned
one.
I pulled out the phone I hadn’t touched in months, swapped in my old
SIM card, and opened the messaging app I hadn’t checked for over a
year.
A flood of new messages poured in–so many that the app nearly
crashed.
I stared at them for a moment, then hit “Clear All.”
Once everything was wiped clean, I sent Eric a single message:
**“I’m back. When are you free? Let’s get the divorce finalized.“**
He didn’t reply.
I started to wonder if he had actually died in the hospital when the
doorbell suddenly rang.
Chapter 8
A chill ran down my spine.
4/4
I gave Martha a look. She understood immediately, picked up Elara, and quietly retreated to the bedroom, gently closing the door behind her.
I took a deep breath, walked to the door, and opened it.
Eric was standing there.
