CHAPTER 3: What Love Leaves Behind.

ALESSA’S POV 

Fifteen Minutes Later…

Exactly fifteen minutes later, my phone rang.

Dad was already outside.

I splashed cold water on my face in a desperate attempt to wash away the swelling around my eyes, the redness that screamed pain and defeat. I didn't bother explaining anything to my classmates or teachers.

I just walked in, head down, grabbed my bag, and walked out like a ghost.

The moment I stepped into the parking lot, I saw him.

There he was. Dad, standing beside his car, that same warm, fatherly smile on his face. My heart clenched. Even from afar, I could see he was tired, but his smile never faded. It was always for me, even when he had no energy left for himself.

I waved, forcing a cheerful “Hi, Dad!” and ran toward him, trying to wear the mask of my usual self. But I could feel the weight of my lie, my sadness threatened to pour out through my trembling lips, my burning eyes.

He opened his arms wide. “There’s my princess,” he said.

I jumped into them. Safe.

He caught me effortlessly, like he always did when I was younger, and spun me slightly like I was still his little girl.

I smiled, a real smile, the first in what felt like ages.

“My princess,” he said, holding my shoulders and gently studying my face. “I left everything the moment you called. Are you alright?”

“Just a headache, Dad. Nothing serious. I just… need some rest.” I spoke quickly, praying he wouldn’t look deeper, wouldn’t see the trembling beneath the surface.

He nodded and ushered me into the car.

Usually, I sat beside him in the front. We always talked during our rare drives, he’d tell me about his meetings, his grand plans, and I’d act like I understood it all. 

But today… I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to see me broken. So I slipped into the back seat instead.

He noticed.

“You okay back there?” he asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

I forced a laugh. “Just trying something new.”

The engine hummed to life, and the car rolled forward. I stared out the window, trying not to remember Michael’s words. But they echoed anyway, vicious, cold, humiliating. It was like my soul was reliving that moment in a loop I couldn’t break.

I tried to blink away the tears, but I failed.

Suddenly, it burst out of me like a dam giving way. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I sobbed into my hands.

“Princess?” Dad’s voice cracked. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He turned toward me.

“Watch the road!” I screamed.

My voice pierced the air just seconds before I saw it, a monstrous truck barreling toward us from the right, screeching and out of control.

Everything after that happened in a blur of terror.

The deafening roar of metal grinding against metal. The violent jolt of the car being hit.

A spin. A flip.

A moment of weightlessness, like the earth disappeared beneath us.

And then blackness.

When I opened my eyes, I was upside down, trapped, pain radiating through every bone in my body. 

The air was filled with smoke, the acrid sting of gasoline, and shattered glass. Somewhere behind the ringing in my ears, I heard voices. Muffled. Distant.

I turned my head.

Dad was there. Slumped over the steering wheel.

“Dad?” My voice came out hoarse, barely audible.

He moved.

Despite the blood trickling down his temple and the twisted angle of his arm, he twisted toward me, crawling, reaching, shielding.

He was shielding me.

Even as the roof caved in slightly, even as sparks danced dangerously near, he used his body to cover mine, pulling debris away from my head, whispering, “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. Just stay with me.”

That’s when I understood.

He had seen the truck too.

He didn’t freeze, he swerved the car to take the brunt of the hit himself, placing his side between me and the incoming wreck.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t think about himself. He only thought of me.

My chest ached not just from the crash but from that unbearable truth. He had protected me with the last strength in his body.

And then the world went dark again but at least I saw him smiling telling me I would be fine.

One Week Later…

The high-pitched beeping pulled me out of the darkness. Sterile white walls. IV drips. Bandages. Smell of blood and medicines. Pain.

My body screamed, but my soul felt heavier.

“Mum?” My voice cracked.

She stirred beside me. Her eyes widened, and then she broke into a shaky smile. “Alessa… you’re awake…”

But it wasn’t joy in her face, it was something else. A terrible, trembling fear.

“You’ve been out for a week,” she whispered, brushing my hair back gently. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought… I would lose you too.”

Too. That word hit me like a hammer. My heart skipped.

“Lose me too? Mum!” my voice rose in panic, “Where’s Dad? Where’s Dad, Mum?!”

She couldn’t speak. She just cried harder.

No. No, no, no.

“MUM!!” I screamed. My voice cracked open like a wound. “Please, PLEASE TELL ME HE’S OKAY!!” that was all I wanted to know.

The silence told me everything.

My body went numb. The wires, the pain, the beeping machines, none of it mattered anymore. My soul shattered into pieces I could never glue back.

He was gone. And I was alive. He died saving me.

Why? Why did he always put me first? Why didn’t I notice sooner how much he loved me? Why did he die while I lived?

At that point I understood what true pain was, I thought it was actually the humiliation but nothing ached more than this.

The grief was so sharp, so deep, I couldn’t breathe. It was like someone reached into my chest and ripped my heart out slowly, leaving the space empty and screaming.

I collapsed back onto the bed, the weight of it all dragging me under.

MICHAEL’S POV

Weeks had passed since that day.

The day I humiliated her in front of everyone. The day I thought I was teaching her a lesson. The day I thought being cool meant crushing a girl’s heart.

She didn’t come to school after that.

At first, I was indifferent. “She’s just a 10th grader,” I told myself. “Whatever.”

But with each passing day, that lie got harder to swallow. I saw the video, how I stood there, laughing while she broke. I hated myself for it.

I don’t know if it was guilt, or fear, or something else. But suddenly, all I wanted was to see her face, say I was sorry. Not because I deserved forgiveness, but because she deserved better and I was just too hard on her.

Graduation was in

three weeks, and I had everything lined up: a future, an empire to inherit, a legacy to build. Something in me wanted to see her before graduation.