CHAPTER V: Shattered Roads
1156 Words
The world felt distant.
Muted.
As if everything had been pushed behind a thick pane of glass.
Maxine walked without direction, her steps slow and uneven against the pavement. She didn’t remember leaving Roman’s house. She didn’t remember how long she had been wandering. Time had become meaningless—just a blur between one breath and the next.
Her fingers trembled faintly at her side, clutching the crumpled letter like it was the only thing anchoring her to reality. Or perhaps—the only thing proving that her reality had truly shattered.
“Seven years…”
The words slipped from her lips, hoarse and hollow.
A weak, bitter laugh followed, barely audible.
“Seven years… and that’s all it took?”
Her vision blurred as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away. What was the point? There was nothing left to protect—not her makeup, not her pride, not even her dignity. Everything had been stripped from her.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“I was… an obstacle…”
Her voice cracked under the weight of the words.
Obstacle. That was what she had been reduced to. Not a partner. Not a future. Not someone he loved enough to fight for. Just… something in the way.
Her steps faltered, but she kept moving. One foot in front of the other. Mechanical. Empty.
People brushed past her, casting curious glances. Some slowed, whispering. Others avoided her entirely. She didn’t notice. Didn’t care.
Her mind replayed everything in fragments—his smile, his voice, the way he used to call her “Max,” the warmth of his hand in hers. Lies. All of it.
Her foot stepped forward—onto the road.
A deafening horn blasted through the air.
SCREEECH!
The violent sound of brakes tore through the silence as a car stopped just inches away from her. Maxine didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. Didn’t even blink.
A car door slammed open.
“Are you insane?!”
The voice was sharp, furious—but beneath it, a flicker of something else: concern.
“If I hadn’t stopped, you’d be dead right now!”
Heavy footsteps approached fast, agitated.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?!” the man continued. “You can’t just walk into traffic like that! Are you trying to get yourself killed—or drag someone else down with you?!”
Maxine slowly lifted her head. Her tear-filled eyes met his.
Roman Estillore.
His expression was dark with anger—but there was something more. A tightening around his eyes, a tension in his jaw. He stepped closer, reaching out slightly, not with force, but as if steadying her with his presence.
“Say something!” he snapped, though his voice carried a thread of worry.
Silence.
Maxine looked at him—but it was as if she wasn’t really seeing him.
Her lips trembled. Then a broken sound escaped. Soft at first. Fragile.
But it didn’t stop.
It grew.
Cracked.
Shattered.
Until it erupted into a loud, uncontrollable sob.
Roman reacted instantly, catching her before she hit the ground. His hands gripped her firmly but carefully, steadying her trembling body. He glanced around; people were starting to watch. He didn’t care. He just held her, letting her cry, making sure she didn’t fall.
“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. Frustration edged his voice, but it was tinted with a sharp concern.
Maxine clutched at his shirt, fingers trembling as she cried harder, her body shaking uncontrollably.
“Enough,” he said firmly. Without waiting for a response, he guided her toward his car. When her legs refused to cooperate, he lifted her slightly, helping her into the passenger seat. She didn’t resist. Didn’t even react. She just cried.
Roman shut the door and quickly walked around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he started the engine.
“We’re going to the hospital,” he said, tone leaving no room for argument—but calm, deliberate, careful.
“No—!”
Maxine’s reaction was immediate. She grabbed his arm tightly, shaking her head over and over.
“Don’t—hic—please—no…” she begged, voice cracking.
Roman’s frown deepened. He glanced at her, then spoke slowly.
“This isn’t about the accident. You just… need to be somewhere safe.”
She shook her head again, grip tightening as her sobs intensified.
“I don’t want—hic—I don’t want anything—!”
Her words dissolved into broken cries.
Roman clicked his tongue. “…Fine.”
Without another word, he shifted gears and drove off—away from the hospital, toward somewhere quieter, more private.
Minutes passed. Her sobbing began to fade, replaced by weak, uneven breaths. Exhaustion finally took its toll. Her head leaned against the window. Her eyes slowly closed.
Roman glanced at her. “…She fell asleep?”
It wasn’t peaceful sleep. It was the kind that came after breaking down completely—when the body simply couldn’t endure anymore.
His gaze shifted downward. That was when he noticed the paper in her hand. A crumpled letter.
He hesitated. “…This is none of my business.” A pause. “…But still.”
Carefully, he reached over and took it from her loosened grip. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
Roman unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the contents. With every line, his expression darkened.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His grip tightened.
“Not ready?” he muttered. “After seven years?”
His jaw clenched as he read further.
“‘You’ll be an obstacle…’?” he repeated, disbelief clear in his voice.
Anger flared—sharp and immediate.
“Coward.”
Roman exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
“You don’t run away like this. You don’t disappear the day before your wedding and call it ‘not being ready.’ That’s not hesitation—that’s irresponsibility.”
His eyes flickered toward Maxine. She looked… small. Fragile. Nothing like the woman who used to stand tall in front of him, refusing to back down.
“…Tch.” He leaned back slightly, still holding the letter.
“I don’t even like you,” he said quietly. A pause. “…But you don’t deserve this.”
His gaze lingered on her, careful, protective, attentive. Someone had broken her, and he wouldn’t leave her like this.
Roman folded the letter carefully and placed it on the dashboard. His hands returned to the wheel.
“…Pathetic.”
Then, after a moment, his voice softened, almost imperceptibly.
“…I won’t let you stay like this.”
Maxine didn’t hear him. She remained asleep, unaware of everything.
But as the car moved forward into the night, something had shifted—not in her, but in him. His care, his attentiveness, his protective gestures spoke louder than words ever could.
- Writer
