"So, what's our plan now?" Kaiser asked as we sat around the breakfast table.
None of us had gotten a peaceful night's sleep. I wasn't even sure if Calyx had managed to rest at all. The tension from last night still lingered in the air—thick, suffocating, unshaken. We were still in the villa, and the only concrete plan we had was to head back to Melbourne later today. But with everything we had just uncovered, I knew that wouldn't be enough.
I noticed Calyx slipping out to the back, his movements heavy with the weight of the truth we had unraveled. Without thinking, I followed him.
We had both learned something last night—something that had changed everything. The revelation hung between us, unspoken yet impossible to ignore. I was no stranger to pain, to secrets that could shatter a person, but Calyx… he wasn't built for this. I could see it in his posture, in the way his shoulders tensed as if bracing for another blow. He was struggling to process it all, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't know how to reach him.
Guilt gnawed at me. I had lashed out at him, hurt him, when I found out he knew something about my parents' deaths. And now, standing here with the ocean breeze rustling through the trees, I wasn't even sure how to face him.
Maybe it was because, despite everything, I was still in love with him.
And maybe that was the cruelest part of it all.
Was this how our marriage would end? Not with a fight, not with a clear betrayal, but with the slow unraveling of everything we once were—starting with trouble and ending with something far worse?
I heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry," I said, though I wasn't even sure what part I was apologizing for. Was it for last night? For the pain we had both inflicted on each other? Or for the fact that, despite everything, I still couldn't let go?
I stepped closer, standing beside him as we watched the vast expanse of the ocean stretch endlessly before us. The waves crashed against the shore, steady and unrelenting—so unlike the turmoil inside me.
Calyx let out a breath, his voice quiet but weighted with regret. "I should be the one apologizing," he admitted. "I promised your father I'd protect you, but I failed. Ignoring you… then Jillian… every choice I made only ended up hurting you."
I didn't say anything—I was too surprised to hear him apologize for the very things that had caused me pain. I had spent so long wondering if he even realized what he had done, if he had ever considered how much it hurt.
But hearing him say it out loud didn't bring relief. If anything, it hurt more.
Because now, I knew the truth. It hadn't been accidental. It wasn't just neglect or misunderstanding. He had made those choices, and only now did he realize—too late—that every one of them had broken me.
I tried my best to compose myself, to push down the emotions threatening to spill over.
This is exactly what my brothers warned me about. I became too weak when it came to Calyx—I let him affect me more than I should.
Was I really this foolishly in love with him?
How pathetic.
"We're going back to Melbourne later. Kaiser will accompany you," I finally said. It was the only thing I could offer because I didn't know how to acknowledge his apology. I didn't even know if I could forgive him.
Who am I kidding? I could forgive him easily.
But the pain was still there, raw and unyielding.
Calyx turned to me, his gaze searching. "What about you?"
"I'm joining Uno," I replied, my voice steady, though inside, I felt anything but.
Calyx's eyes lingered on me, searching for something—hesitation, doubt, anything that might tell him I wasn't really leaving. "Are you staying with Kaiser?"
I nodded.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The ocean waves crashed in the distance, a stark contrast to the stillness between us. The wind rustled through the trees, but even nature couldn't ease the tension hanging in the air.
Calyx exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as if the weight of his words was too much to carry. Then, he finally spoke.
"I think it's best if we finally end this marriage, Severa." His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but the finality in his words hit me like a blow to the chest. "I've hurt you… and keeping you in this marriage, knowing I can't truly open my heart to you, isn't fair."
He paused, his jaw tightening. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, as if he was bracing himself—for my reaction, for the weight of his own admission.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I can't love you the way you love me."
There it was. The truth I had been avoiding, spoken out loud, impossible to ignore.
I had prepared myself for this moment, hadn't I? And yet, why did it still feel like my world was crumbling beneath my feet?
--
We left the villa, and I hadn't said a single word to Calyx after what he told me.
Not because I didn't have anything to say—there were a thousand things I could have screamed at him, a thousand questions I could have asked—but because the pain was so deep, it left me numb. Words felt pointless. What was there left to say when everything had already shattered?
The drive back to Melbourne was silent. Uno didn't push me to talk, didn't try to fill the void with meaningless words. He must have sensed it—the way I sat there, staring blankly out the window, my mind a whirlwind of emotions I couldn't even begin to untangle.
Every mile we passed blurred together. The rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, the faint scent of leather in the car, the distant sound of traffic—it all felt muted, like I was trapped behind an invisible barrier, detached from reality.
The world outside moved on, indifferent to the wreckage inside me. The sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light over everything, as if mocking the darkness that had settled inside my chest. I should have cried. I should have screamed. I should have felt something other than this unbearable hollowness. But I just sat there, motionless, as if the pain had drained the life out of me.
By the time we arrived at Kaiser's house, exhaustion had seeped into my bones, heavy and suffocating. Uno parked the car and stepped out, but I didn't move right away. I just sat there, gripping the edge of my seat, my fingers numb, my breathing shallow. I kept waiting—for my emotions to catch up, for the dam inside me to finally break.
Even after Kaiser returned from dropping off Calyx, I still hadn't spoken. He lingered nearby, watching me with cautious eyes, probably wondering how long I'd keep this silence. But he didn't push. He just sat near me, close enough for me to know he was there, but far enough to give me space.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Time felt irrelevant.
And then, a knock at the door.
Steven.
His presence filled the quiet, a force of its own, shattering the fragile silence that had held me together.
The moment I saw Steven, something inside me cracked.
I ran to him without thinking, throwing my arms around him as a sob tore from my throat. The walls I had built, the numbness I had clung to, shattered in an instant.
Tears spilled freely, my body shaking as I buried my face against his shoulder. I didn't care how stubborn I had been, how much I had tried to push them away. At the end of the day, they were my brothers. My family.
And maybe, just maybe, I deserved to have them.
Steven didn't say a word. He just held me, his arms strong and steady as I broke down against him.
He didn't try to stop my tears, didn't tell me everything would be okay—because maybe he knew that right now, nothing felt okay. Instead, he simply ran a hand up and down my back, his touch firm yet gentle, grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to grieve—not just for my marriage, but for everything I had lost along the way.