Betrayed by the One I Loved

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a hospital room.

The room was silent—not a single soul in sight.

I could faintly hear Damien’s voice from the next room.

Clutching my wound, I staggered to the doorway and stopped outside the slightly open door.

On the bed inside, Vivian’s face was pale. Her wrist was thickly bandaged.

The room was crowded with doctors Damien had called in. They circled around her, checking her vitals and murmuring instructions.

Damien sat at her bedside, holding her hand tightly. His voice was gentle as he comforted her.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s all over now. The baby is fine too.”

Their hands were so intimately intertwined that it felt like there was no space for a third person.

A sharp pain bloomed in my chest. I couldn’t bear to watch another second.

So this is what it feels like when a heart shatters so completely—it actually hurts to breathe.

I pushed through the pain, ignoring the nurses who tried to stop me, and went straight to the desk to sign my discharge papers.

When I got home, I resumed packing. I tossed out everything I no longer needed, keeping only my passport, a few important documents, and a handful of clothes.

I left everything else behind. The expensive gifts Damien had given me over the years—I didn’t touch a single one.

On the nightstand, there was still a photo of us together. I stared at it for a long moment before removing it from the frame. I tore away my half of the picture carefully, crumpled what remained, and threw it into the trash.

Once everything was done, I dragged my suitcase to the door and walked out of the villa without looking back.

That day happened to be the day my visa was ready. Finally, I could take my passport and leave this place that had brought me nothing but heartbreak.

The clerk handed me my documents with a warm smile.

“Miss Davies, congratulations. Have a pleasant journey!”

“Thank you.”

As I looked down at the freshly issued visa, a strange calm settled over me.

Before I left, I deleted every trace of myself. I canceled all my accounts and bought a one-way ticket.

I remembered how Damien had held my hand so tightly eight years ago and said, “Estelle, you’re mine. You’ll be by my side for the rest of your life.”

‘Damien, you were wrong.

‘There would be no place for you in my world for the rest of my life.’

Back at the hospital, after coaxing Vivian into taking her medicine and falling asleep, Damien finally remembered me.

He walked to the next room, only to find a nurse tidying up an empty bed. The bed where I had been lying was now stripped bare—cold and vacant.

A flicker of unease swept through him. He stopped the nurse and asked sharply,

“Where’s the patient who was in this room?”

The nurse gave him a strange look.

“Are you her family? She was discharged early this morning.”

“What?”

The unease in Damien’s chest flared into panic. He pulled out his phone and tried calling me, but the screen flashed that the user was busy.

When he tried to send me a message, it became painfully clear that I had blocked his number.

He shot to his feet, his expression dark and terrifying.

It was only then that he thought to call the villa’s butler.

“Where’s Madam? Is she at home? Get her on the line. Now!”

There was a pause as the butler moved away. When he returned, his voice was frantic.

“Mr. Jones, Madam is gone. The maids said they saw her leave with a suitcase. She took a cab and left the villa!”