
Don't Ruin Me.
Chapter 3
“No, don’t look at me like that. Erica is just a child, Kyra. She didn’t mean that I’m her father,” Liam stuttered.
Melissa hastily intervened, her voice carrying a faint hint of a sneer. “Oh, Kyra, don’t mind Erica’s words. She’s just a child.”
My gaze lingered on Erica. Her expression was innocent—soft, and unbothered. For a moment, I felt bad for judging the young girl.
Melissa’s composure faltered before she quickly regained her poise. “You know Erica is still adjusting to her father’s... absence.”
“I see…” I said quietly. The silence that followed was heavy and unbearable until the doctor walked in, cutting through the tension.
“Miss Kyra,” he began with a reassuring smile, “I can see you’re doing well. After several checks, I can confirm you’re fit to leave now. The shock was what made you faint, not the car itself. You were lucky—it wasn’t a serious hit.”
Relief washed over me. “Thank you, doctor. I’m really grateful.”
I forced a small smile, though my heart was heavy. I couldn’t wait to go home—to start preparing for Hailey’s burial. My eyes welled with tears, but I quickly brushed them away, whispering to myself that she was in a better place.
“Let’s go, Kyra. I’ll drive you home,” Liam offered.
“You don’t have to.”
I couldn’t bear to be in the same car with him. The last few days had been an emotional hurricane, and I needed space—somewhere my heart could breathe again.
A memory flickered painfully in my mind. Just a week ago, I’d begged Liam to drop me off at the mall to get some toiletries. He’d told me he wasn’t going my way—that he had to pick up Melissa and her daughter for a hospital checkup. That wasn’t the first time he’d turned me down, and yet he expected me to jump at his offer now?
I brushed past him gently, but he caught my wrist and pulled me back to face him.
“Kyra, please,” he said softly. “I know you’re mad and hurt, but we can’t do this now. Let’s not bury our daughter with so much hate between us. I’ll make it up to you—I promise.”
Something inside me cracked at his words. Against my better judgment, I followed him toward the car.
But the moment we stepped outside, I felt it again—the sting of humiliation that always seemed to follow Melissa’s presence.
I moved toward the passenger seat, my hand already on the door handle, when Melissa appeared beside the car. She stood there, her eyes fixed on Liam with that familiar look—half pleading, half expectant.
Liam’s voice broke the silence. “Kyra, can you sit at the back, please? Melissa... she gets car sick when she’s not in front.”
My heart twisted. It was the same excuse he’d given before—every single time. Back then, I used to smile and oblige, convincing myself it was nothing. But deep down now, I knew what it really meant.
And now, even after everything that had happened—even after I had almost died—he was still choosing her comfort over my pain.
Without a word, I stepped aside and climbed into the back seat.
The air in the car was suffocating, heavy with all the unspoken things between us.
As we drove home, my mind wandered back to when things were simpler—or maybe I had just been too blind to see the truth. I used to think our silence meant peace, that our quiet drives were a sign of contentment. But now I realized they were just voids—empty stretches of denial I had mistaken for love.
---
When we arrived at the house, Liam helped me in, steadying me as we walked through the grand hallway that suddenly felt so empty.
“Let me run a hot bath for you,” he said softly.
I froze for a second. The words sounded strange coming from him.
It used to be me—always me—who ran his bath. I’d wait until the water was just the right temperature, adding his favorite soap, folding his towel neatly by the side. Sometimes I’d wait for hours, only for him to come home late and tell me the water had gone cold.
And I’d do it all over again without a word—because that’s what a good wife did.
So when he said those words now, it felt foreign. Like a gesture that came too late.
“Thank you,” I whispered, forcing a small smile.
He smiled back faintly and left the room.
---
After my bath, I sat on my bed, towel draped around my shoulders, scrolling through my phone absentmindedly. My mind was full of Hailey—how to make her burial beautiful, how to say goodbye without completely falling apart.
Then my thumb froze.
On my screen was an Instagram post.
[Thanks for taking care of me and my daughter, dear Liam. You’re such a God-sent.]
Attached was a photo of Melissa and Liam, smiling together inside her house.
But it wasn’t just the picture that shattered me.
Melissa was wearing a diamond bracelet—the limited edition one I had admired for months. I had begged Liam for it once, hoping maybe for our anniversary. But he had scoffed, saying, “That kind of thing isn’t for people like you, Kyra. Cheap things suit you better.”
I blinked back tears, staring at the screen. There it was, glimmering proudly on Melissa’s wrist—the same bracelet he said I didn’t deserve.
And just when I thought my heart couldn’t ache more, my eyes caught something else in the background.
Erica—Melissa’s daughter—was playing with a familiar wristband.
Hailey’s wristband.
The one I had handmade for her last birthday, the one she’d sworn never to take off. She used to say, “Mommy, this one’s my favorite. It’s my lucky charm.”
My breath hitched. My vision blurred as my heart collapsed under the weight of it all.
The warmth from my bath vanished, replaced by an icy rage that burned through my veins.
“How could he?” I whispered, my voice shaking. “How could he give away what belonged to our daughter?”
My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the comments.
People were congratulating them, calling them a perfect couple.
The realization hit me like a slap I never saw coming. Liam had walked all over me—shattered me piece by piece—and I let him. I took every lie, every humiliation, swallowed them until they burned holes inside me. And now, the life I dreamed of, the one I thought we’d build together—he went and handed it to someone else.
The phone slipped from my hands and hit the bed with a soft thud. I stared blankly at the ceiling, tears sliding down my face in silence.
Then came the sound of footsteps. His footsteps.
“Kyra, I—”
He stopped when he saw me. His eyes darted from my tear-streaked face to the phone lying open beside me.
“Kyra, I can explain—”
“Explain?” My voice broke into painful sobs, raw and trembling. “Explain this?”
I shoved the phone toward him, my tears blurring the screen. Melissa’s photo glared up at him like a cruel mirror of everything I’d lost.
Liam’s expression faltered. First shock, then guilt, then silence.
His head snapped up, his eyes wide.
I took a shaky breath and stepped closer, my voice trembling as the words poured out.
“The bracelet on Melissa’s neck… the same one I begged you for, remember? You said I didn’t deserve something that expensive. You said cheap things fit me best.” My laugh cracked, bitter and hollow. “But somehow, she deserves it?”
Liam’s lips parted, but no words came out.
“And that wristband on Erica’s hand,” I continued, my voice quivering, “that’s Hailey’s. The one she never took off. The one I made for her on her last birthday.”
My chest burned. Every breath hurt.
“You didn’t just betray me, Liam. You took pieces of my child… of us… and gave them away like they meant nothing.”
He tried to speak, but I cut him off, my tears blinding me.
“I thought losing Hailey was the worst pain I could ever feel,” I whispered. “But I was wrong. The real pain is realizing she’s not the only thing I buried.”
I looked at him one last time — the man I’d loved since I was a girl, the man I’d built my life around — and all I saw was a stranger wearing his face.
“I hope she was worth every piece of me you destroyed.”
My voice came out broken, almost a whisper, but it sliced through the silence that hung between us.
“Now, tell me, Liam… what else—what else of Hailey’s did you give her?”
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