Why would he stoop so low, weaving my heart into his cruel games? For what small satisfaction, what hollow victory, does he seek to claim? Is it to see me falter, to unearth the wounds I've worked so hard to mend? Does he find joy in unraveling the peace I’ve built piece by piece again? To taunt me with what once was, and what will never be? To cast shadows of pain where light once fought to set me free? I cannot fathom the pettiness that drives his cold, calculated scheme. Yet here I stand, caught between his mockery and a shattered dream. If this is his triumph, it speaks more of his emptiness than of me. I won’t be the pawn in a game that only deepens his misery.
Estelle’s hand lingered on the doorknob long after Ryan and Olivia had walked away. She tried to steady her breathing, but h
