After My Last Breath

[Elara]

“When will Daddy come home, Mommy?” Cora, my four-year-old daughter, asks.

The back of my eyes sting with disappointment. I look up at the time and breathe in a deep sigh. It’s already half past ten. No wonder Cora ran out of patience. She usually doesn’t complain about many things. All she ever asks for is to spend time with her daddy, something she rarely gets to do. And I wonder if it’s…too much to ask for?

But Damon…I’ve already called him at least a dozen times, left him several texts on Messenger. But still no response.

‘Where are you, Damon? Are you really going to abandon your daughter on her birthday?’

Pushing back the hurt, I bring a smile to my face and pull Cora onto my lap, kissing the top of her head. “Very soon. You know Daddy loves you more than anything, don’t you? He’d never miss your birthday.”

“But it’s already so late. When are we going to cut the cake?”

I look at the cake placed on the table, the candles sitting on the side.

“Let me call him one more time. Maybe he’s already on his way.”

“Okay!”

Cora runs off into the kitchen, probably to check on the pasta we made together for Damon. It was Cora’s idea to surprise him this year, and she was pretty excited to be part of the entire process. But Damon…he can’t even be bothered to show up.

I grab the phone from the couch and walk out onto the balcony, waiting for him to answer.

He picks up the phone this time.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? I’m fucking busy.”

“But Damon… today is Cora’s birthday. You said you’d come back to celebrate with her—”

“Oh—I got swamped and forgot. I really do have something today. I’ll make it up to her—just not now.”

He cuts off the call, and I lower the phone, staring at the screen.

Forgot? That’s his excuse? So effortless, so dismissive. And yet… it’s the perfect snapshot of what our marriage has become.

Five years ago, Damon was never meant to be my husband. He was supposed to marry my sister, Hannah. But the day before the wedding, everything fell apart.

When Hannah, my younger sister and the only woman Damon ever truly loved—vanished just twenty-four hours before they were meant to say their vows, the world turned on me without hesitation. And because my parents’ business depended on his family, it didn’t matter that Hannah was gone.

Damon faced relentless pressure from his parents, who threatened the family’s reputation and financial stability if he refused to go through with the marriage. With so much at stake, he had little choice but to let me take Hannah’s place at the altar.

He never forgave me for it, especially after he found the note Hannah had left behind. Filled with tears, regret, and accusations that painted me as cruel and heartless, it confirmed in his mind everything he already believed. He accused me of bullying and tormenting my own sister, claiming I had driven her to the edge.

He believed every word. Everyone did. Even my own parents.

They just looked at me with disappointment and shame, as if I’d confirmed their worst fears. And just like that, they cut me off—choosing Hannah’s words over my existence.

Maybe that’s why Damon thinks he can treat me like someone who’ll swallow anything in silence—a woman to be managed, handled, replaced. But he’s wrong. I am not something he gets to own or discard.

What I won’t accept is Cora being dragged into the fallout of choices that were never mine.

Why does she have to be disappointed on the day she should be the happiest?

I reach for my phone to check the time, and notice a new message waiting for me.

I drag down the notification bar and press the recent text.

When the image loads, my fingers go numb. It's a photo of Damon and...

For a second, I can’t even breathe.

For years, I tried to erase her from my memory, to stop replaying that night, to stop wondering if she was dead or alive.

Now they seem to be sitting in some kind of restaurant, a large cake in front of them, the candles being blown out by a little boy no more than five.

When did she go back to the country? And, who is that little boy? Damon didn’t come home to be with Cora today but spent time with another child?

Countless questions popped up in my mind.

A text arrives right after.

“Stop waiting on him, El. Damon is exactly where he should be. With his real family.”—Hannah.

I freeze, my mind spinning.

In the past, no matter how hard I tried before—no matter how I fought to prove I would never hurt my sister, that I’m not that kind of person, he remained cold toward me. Time and again, he would remind me of my sins, of how I came between him and his one true love, how I robbed him of his happiness, and how I shouldn’t blame anyone but myself for how my life turned out.

Now Hannah is back. With a child. And with her return, the ground beneath us feels unsteady. I don’t know where we stand anymore.

Where does that leave me and Cora? Are we still part of his family, or…something else entirely?

The doorbell rings, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I look at the time, only to realize I have been out in the balcony for almost two hour.

Did I really zone out for that long?

The doorbell rings again.

I quickly rush inside, heading for the door. It must be Damon—who else would come knocking at this hour? Besides, if I had a guest over, security would have informed me.

I open the door, happy that he finally decided to show up.

Though my smile falters when my gaze shifts to the person standing next to him.

“Elara!” Hannah throws her arms around me, catching me completely off guard and making me more than a little uncomfortable. Her perfume is the same. Sweet and cloying. I used to miss that scent in the first year she disappeared. Now, it makes my stomach turn.

“I finally get to see you! How have you been?” Her concern feels awkward as hell. “I’ve been back in the country for a month already,” Hannah says casually, almost as if it’s no big deal. “I’ve been so busy, I didn’t have time to reach out… thankfully Damon has been helping me out all this time.”

A bitter taste rises in my throat. My husband… didn’t even tell me?

The only texts I get from her are pictures and locations of the places Damon takes her and Danny, her son.

When the shock wears off, I pull away. “What are you doing here?”

She steps back, almost bumping into Damon—who, surprisingly, steadies her with ease. “Oh, did Damon not tell you?”

It’s only then that I notice the child beside her, when she pulls him closer.

“Their building had a robbery incident today,” Damon cuts in before she can finish. “She just got back from abroad this month, and the apartment she rented isn’t safe right now. I brought her and her son here to stay for a few days.”

With no further explanation, he pushes past me. “Don’t just stand there. Move.”

As I watch them walk past me, my chest tightens—disbelief giving way to a slow, burning anger.

How could Damon bring his ex and her son into our home?