Chapter 16: "The Distance We Didn't Choose"
1626 Words
This can’t be happening.
This cannot be happening.
Pepper’s hands trembled as the words echoed like thunder inside her head, each syllable pounding against her skull like a cruel countdown. Her parents had just confirmed it—Uncle Jordan was still sending Alex to the States.
The decision was final.
No negotiations. No warnings. No second chances.
Her worst fear was no longer just a whisper in the dark. It was a thunderclap in broad daylight. A reality she couldn’t run from or blink away. Because this wasn’t a dream.
It was a nightmare.
And she was wide awake.
“No! You can’t do that!” she burst out, voice cracking with disbelief as her eyes darted from one adult to another. “I won’t allow it!”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Her outburst had sliced the air in half. For a long beat, no one moved. Her mother was the first to react, rushing to her side, gently placing a calming hand on her back. But Pepper was already unraveling, each breath more ragged than the last, like she was drowning in invisible waves.
Her chest heaved. Her heart thundered.
What made it worse—so much worse—was that Alex hadn’t said a single word.
Not once had he looked at her since stepping through the door.
“Erika,” her mother said softly, her voice too calm, too rehearsed, “this is for the best—for both of you. You and Alex are still so young. This little space will give you time to grow, to think about your futures.”
“No, Mom!” she cried, shaking her head violently, her voice rising. “How can you call that a ‘little space’ when we’ll be thousands of miles apart?” Her eyes flooded with tears, hot and blinding. “How is separating us good for anything? Yes, we made a mistake—we know that! But this? This is a punishment. And if Alex is going to the States, then I’m going with him!”
“Erika, stop being stubborn,” her father said sharply from his seat, the finality in his voice slicing her heart clean in two.
She flinched. It was the first time he had spoken to her since that awful, humiliating day. His words felt like cold steel. Her mother’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort, but it couldn’t stop the storm already raging inside her.
“You’re both still very young,” Alex’s mother, Dinah, spoke with calculated calm, the kind that came from decisions already made. “You’ve always been side by side. Maybe it’s time you learn who you are separately. The distance… it’s necessary. He’ll come back and marry you, in time. You have our word.”
Pepper turned sharply, eyes locked on Alex, desperate. Pleading.
Say something.
Please, fight for me.
Just once—fight for us.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t even look her way.
“How can you just send him away like that?” she whispered, voice trembling. “He didn’t even want to study law. He’s not happy about it. What if—”
“Enough, Pepper,” Alex cut her off, his tone low. Controlled. Empty.
She stared at him, disoriented.
“Y-You agreed?” she asked, the words barely a whisper. “You… didn’t tell me.”
He nodded once, eyes still avoiding hers.
Something in her cracked.
Not slowly.
Not quietly.
It shattered—violently, like glass meeting concrete.
She had been holding the line, believing she could fight for the both of them. That if she just begged hard enough, if she loved loud enough, she could make this nightmare disappear.
But he had already given in.
He had decided their future without her.
“They just want what’s best for us,” he added, voice void of warmth.
Her knees gave out slightly, and she reached for the edge of the sofa to steady herself. Her legs had forgotten how to be strong. The room blurred at the edges.
He agreed.
No argument. No resistance. No goodbye.
Just… surrender.
“I thought I could stop this,” she murmured numbly. “I thought I could fix it…”
“This is for your future,” Uncle Jordan chimed in from the corner.
“Our future?” she snapped, turning to him with fire in her chest. “Or yours?”
“Erika!” her father barked, scandalized.
She didn’t back down. Didn’t apologize.
There was nothing left to lose.
Alex abruptly stood, the scrape of his chair against the floor loud and jarring. “Please excuse us,” he muttered and grabbed her by the arm, not roughly, but with a firmness that made it clear—this conversation was far from over.
She didn’t fight him.
She let him pull her out into the garden, her feet moving without direction, her limbs numb. The evening air hit her skin like ice. Alex let go of her the second they were alone, as if her touch burned him.
He cursed under his breath, ran a hand through his hair, kicked at the grass like a man unraveling.
And then he turned to her, eyes sharp, voice ragged.
“Damn it, Pepper. This is what you wanted. So quit crying.”
She blinked. Only then did she realize—her face was soaked. Her shoulders were shaking. She was sobbing, loud and ugly.
“Are y-you really that mad at me that you’d rather leave me?” she asked, choking through hiccups.
His jaw tightened. His eyes darted away. He looked at the sky, at anything but her.
“Mad?” He let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “You have no idea how I feel.”
The words sliced through her like paper cuts across already broken skin.
He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t comfort her. Didn’t wipe away her tears like he used to. He stood there, arms folded, heart closed. And she knew—
She wasn’t looking at her Alex anymore.
“How can you even think of leaving me?” she whispered, every word laced with betrayal.
“Because everything that’s happening—all of this—is because of you,” he snapped, voice rising. “You tried to manipulate everything. You crossed a line, Erika.”
“I only did it because I was scared! I didn’t want to lose you. Lance told me—”
“Don’t bring him into this!” Alex shouted, eyes blazing. “I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t care what he said. Got it?”
She recoiled. His anger was like fire. Blistering. Devouring.
“Well, congratulations,” he said with venom, “you got what you wanted. We’re engaged. You’ve got me. Even if I’m halfway across the world, I’ll still come back and marry you—just like they promised.”
It wasn’t love in his voice.
It was resignation.
Hopeless, bitter resignation.
It shattered her more than anger ever could.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But you did.”
“I’ll fix it,” she said quickly. “I’ll tell them nothing happened. I’ll say it was all a misunderstanding. I’ll—”
“Stop,” Alex said, cutting her off with a tired, broken look. “Just stop. It’s too late. No one’s going to believe you. You should’ve thought about that before dragging us into this.”
Her chest collapsed in on itself. Her tears fell harder now—no longer from desperation, but from the realization that there was nothing left to fix.
He let out a long breath, running both hands over his face.
“Go inside, Pepper. Fix yourself. Put on a smile. Pretend you’re okay. Pretend you’re grateful. Pretend you agree.”
She stared at him, aching, hollow.
“Because this is happening,” he finished quietly. “Whether we like it or not.”
She wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers, her hands useless against the flood.
“You’re so cruel,” she said, her voice nothing more than air.
“And so are you, sweetheart,” he replied. “So are you.”
Her breath caught.
Was she?
Maybe she was.
Maybe love—twisted by fear and desperation—had turned her into something ugly.
She never meant to manipulate. She just didn’t know how to let go.
When they stepped back into the house, everything felt different. Smaller. Heavier. She didn’t speak. Didn’t look at anyone. She sat quietly on the far end of the couch, hands clasped in her lap, heart buried deep beneath a mask she couldn’t maintain much longer.
She waited.
Waited for it to be over.
Waited for them to leave, so she could fall apart in peace.
When the Herreras finally rose, offering polite, forced goodbyes, Alex didn’t even glance at her. He simply followed his parents out the door.
Except—
He did glance back.
Just once.
Quick. Almost imperceptible. A flicker of something that might’ve been regret. Or guilt. Or nothing at all.
And then he was gone.
That glance was the final blow.
It said everything his silence hadn’t.
I’m done.
And she had no idea how to fix something already broken beyond repair.
Back in her room, she collapsed onto the bed, curling into herself like a wounded animal. Her pillow soaked beneath her cheeks as she cried—silent, aching sobs that spilled from a place no one could reach.
Maybe, just maybe, when the tears stopped, the pain would stop too.
But tonight, it didn’t feel like it ever would.
- Writer
