The sound of crashing waves.That was the first thing he heard.Then came the sting of salt on his lips. The burn in his lungs. His body felt heavy—like it had been dragged out from the depths of the sea.He gasped sharply, coughing up water he didn’t remember swallowing. His eyes blinked open slowly, vision blurred by the blinding light above him. Everything looked white. The sky. The sand.A face hovered over him—panicked but strangely soft.“Hey, hey… you’re okay,” the woman said gently, pressing a hand to his chest as if trying to keep him grounded. “You’re safe now.”He blinked again, throat raw as he struggled to speak. “W-Who…”“Shhh... don’t talk yet,” she whispered. “You nearly drowned. I found you on the shore. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”He tried again, fighting through the haze in his head. “What… what happened?”She hesitated. “You don’t remember?”He searched his mind. Anything. A name. A face. A reason.But it was blank.Utterly blank.“I don’t know,” he whisper
I was supposed to be in the kitchen.Cooking Noel’s favorite breakfast—some overcooked eggs and lukewarm instant coffee, just the way he liked it. That was part of the act, after all. Sweet, obedient Matthew. The man who came back for him.But the moment I passed the hallway near his study, I heard something.A voice—his voice. Low. Urgent. Serious.I paused, steps light, careful not to creak the wooden floor. His door was half-open. A mistake, maybe. Or maybe he didn’t think I’d ever eavesdrop. I never used to.But that was the old me.Now I was desperate.And desperate people learn to listen.“No, do it now,” I heard Noel hiss over the phone, anger coating his voice. “Right now, while he still doesn’t know anything.”My body tensed. I held my breath.There was a pause. Then his next words came out like venom—“He doesn’t know that Eloise is still alive… so kill her. I want you to kill her!”My ears rang. I took a small step back as if physically struck.“She needs to die—especially
The morning after, I woke up to the dull ache of guilt in my chest—and the taste of vodka still bitter on my tongue.Noel was still asleep beside me, one arm flung over my waist like I might disappear if he let go. His face was peaceful, tear-stained, but finally quiet. As if, for once, the voices in his head took a break from tormenting him.I stared at the ceiling, still. Frozen.His words from last night echoed inside my skull like a curse."Please… choose me again, love… I’m begging you…"And maybe the most terrifying part of it all was that for a split second… I almost did. I almost believed it would be easier. To just pretend. To stay.But I couldn’t. Not really.Because even if Eloise was gone, even if she wasn’t waiting for me out there anymore, I still belonged to the version of myself that loved her. The man who fought for her. The man who promised her everything.And Noel—he was not part of that promise.I slowly peeled his arm off me and sat up. The room was still dim, the
The silence was deafening.I sat in the corner of the room, knees pulled close to my chest, eyes fixed on the cold, steel door that separated me from freedom—or whatever was left of it.My throat was dry, my thoughts racing.How did I end up here?Just a few months ago, I was in the city… fighting with Eloise, crying over her, grieving the loss of our marriage, our love—even if it was already fractured beyond repair. But despite everything, it was real. Tangled and painful, yes—but real.And now, I’m on a goddamn island. Locked away like a possession. Like someone’s twisted fantasy.I looked up at the small, barred window. Only sunlight. No sound of people, no traffic, no chatter. Just trees, waves… and this prison.I leaned my head back against the wall, forcing myself to breathe.Noel wasn’t just delusional. He was dangerous. And worse—he had the resources to make this whole thing look like it was always meant to happen.Hell, he planned this.I could still hear his voice echoing fr
“Noel, I really, really need to go home now.” My voice trembled as I stood from the couch, ignoring the pounding in my chest. “Please.”Noel didn’t even look up. He just kept eating, slow and quiet, like the world around him hadn’t ended.“I just… I need to be there,” I continued. “Her things are still there. Our bed. Her scent. I can’t breathe here, Noel. I need to be home.”He finally set his utensils down and wiped his mouth with a napkin, his eyes tired when they met mine.“There’s no reason for you to go back anymore, Matthew,” he said, voice flat. “She’s not there. She’s not anywhere anymore.”I stood there, frozen—his words echoing, loud and cruel in their finality.Not anywhere anymore.Where do people like Eloise go after death? I’ve asked myself that a thousand times since I woke up. Is she floating somewhere in peace? Is she still crying? Is she angry?Is she watching me now, wondering why I survived and she didn’t?I used to think heaven was for people like her—kind, stubb
I don’t know how to cope with such a loss.The moment Noel said the words—She’s dead—something in me broke. Not cracked, not splintered—broke. Like glass shattering from the inside. It’s not just pain. It’s a kind of silence that screams. A weight that settles in your chest and refuses to move.I keep waiting to wake up. Hoping this is just another one of those twisted nightmares I’ve had since the accident. But every time I open my eyes, I’m still here—on this damn island. And Eloise is still gone.Gone.I hate that word.Because it sounds so clean. So final. But nothing about this feels clean. My memories of her come in flashes—her laugh, the way she used to say my name like it mattered, the last time we fought, the last time I made her cry. God, I can’t even remember the last time I told her I loved her.And now I’ll never get the chance to.Eloise and I never started in a proper way.I didn’t marry her out of love. I didn’t even secretly like her.I married her because I was despe
I woke up gasping for air—my lungs burning, chest tight like I’d been pulled from the bottom of the ocean. Every breath felt like fire. I coughed violently, choking on what felt like seawater or blood. Or both.Everything was a blur until my eyes landed on a face hovering above mine. Noel.His brows were furrowed, worry etched deep into the lines of his face. “Matthew,” he called out, firm but gentle. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”Safe?I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my ribs like a thousand knives. I groaned, falling back onto something soft—a bed, maybe. Wooden ceiling above me. The air smelled of salt and dampness. Waves crashed somewhere in the distance. Where the hell am I?“What happened?” I croaked, my throat raw.“You almost died,” he answered flatly. “I had to get you out.”Out of where?My head throbbed. Pieces of memory floated in and out—flashes of shouting, running, blood. Eloise.Eloise and I... we fought. Over something. No—someone.Noel.I turned my head toward
They say time heals all wounds. I used to think that was a lie we tell ourselves to make pain more bearable. But watching my family now… I know it’s not time that does the healing—it’s love.Life doesn’t go back to what it was. No—after everything that happened, it moves forward. Slowly. Quietly. And sometimes, beautifully.It’s been months since that chaotic morning when Eloah dropped that bomb during breakfast. Since then, things started changing around here. Not in the grand, dramatic way—but in small, healing ways.Eliana’s belly is growing now. She's finally smiling again. Some days are harder than others, but her strength reminds me of her mother. She spends most of her time with Eloise now—quiet conversations, warm hugs, even silent cries. It’s a bond they’re rebuilding, one I’m proud to watch from a distance. The moment I heard her scream from inside the delivery room, everything inside me stilled.Eliana—my daughter—my little girl, was about to become a mother.I was pacing
I needed air. I needed to get out of the house before I completely lost it.I found myself driving to Rafael’s place, the weight of everything pressing on me. I didn’t know why I ended up there, but I did. Maybe because he was the only one who could listen without offering judgment. Or maybe because I just needed to hear someone else’s voice that wasn’t full of disappointment or anger.Rafael answered the door, already holding a bottle of whiskey. No words were exchanged; he just handed me a glass and led me to the couch.“Talk,” he said, pouring his own drink.I sank into the couch, staring into my glass. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Raf. Eliana… she’s not the girl we raised. I thought we had a chance at fixing things, but I don’t know. She didn’t abort the baby, but she’s still a mess. I don’t understand what happened to her, to all of them.”Rafael didn’t interrupt, just took a swig of his drink, waiting for me to continue.“Everything I do feels like it’s wrong. Eloise and I,