The Price Of Trust

My heart felt as if it had been brutally ripped from my chest. My mother - the woman who carried me for nine months, the one I would lay down my life for — and Damien, the only man I'd ever truly loved, had destroyed me. Their betrayal was a wound that consumed me.I stood frozen in the doorway of Damien's bedroom, unable to move my eyes away from the scene that had shattered my life. My mother was still straddling him, her face showed no sign of shame or regret. While Damien had the audacity to smirk as if he had just won a lottery.I couldn't take it anymore. I yanked off the veil from my hair and threw it to the ground. I tore my wedding dress, ripping it apart as anger consumed me. My legs became weak, barely able to hold my weight. "You were supposed to love me. Both of you."" Love you?" Damien scoffed, leaning back against the pillows, completely unbothered by my presence. " Myla, do not be naive. I was never in love with you. I just wanted a taste, and now that I've had it. I'

“Of course, I've… had sex with a man before,” I thought to myself. Once. Twice. Well, maybe. He didn't actually get the chance to go all the way in, but that still counts, right?"You're still so young, Myla. You need to embrace your true self more… I have a zoom meeting to attend. Chat up if you want,” Cynthia said before hanging up.I covered my face with a pillow and let out a muffled, irritated scream. This wasn't the first time Cynthia was lecturing me, and I was extremely tired of it. I decided to do something rash. I took all the remnants of the wine in the bottle.The wine tasted… Sweet.“Whoa," I said to no one. Realizing I was talking to myself, I started giggling. My head felt good. Really good.I laughed again. Why didn't I drink more often? It was making me feel really, really, really good."Stupid, Cynthia," I murmured. "I'm having fun. And I want sex. I want...to...FUCK! I want to fucking fuck."I giggled again and made a decision. I went over to my phone and unlocked i

I froze, my hand gripping the doorknob tightly. I could swear I heard Jaxon call my name. My heart raced as I turned slowly, bracing myself for the worst. But when I looked back, he was still sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. “Am I losing my mind now?” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. Maybe the guilt and fear were finally taking their toll on me. I walked back to the nightstand and picked up a small notepad and pen. For a moment, I just stared at the blank page, unsure what to say. Then, with trembling hands, I began to write: Jaxon, I don’t know what this night meant to you, but for me, it was a reminder that I deserve to feel alive, even if it just for a moment. Thank you for being my escape, and my comfort. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. This will be the last time you hear from me. Be happy, Jaxon. You deserve it. —Myla I placed the note beside him, my heart aching with every step I took toward the door. The morning air outsi

“For how long were you planning to hide from me, Myla?” Jaxon asked, his voice laced with pain.I froze, my heart racing as I clutched the door, unable to look away. My pulse quickened, and my eyes darted toward Jaxon, who was standing in the doorway.He looked furious, yet heartbreakingly vulnerable. His dark eyes pierced into mine, the weight of his emotions hitting me hard.“Jaxon ...” I called, my voice was barely a whisper and my throat dry.“You left without a word, Myla," his voice cracked, shattering the calm posture he was trying to maintain. “ You didn’t care about how I’d feel, about what you left behind. Do you even know what that night did to me? After that night, Myla... after you and I…” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve been in my thoughts every second since then. I can’t focus, I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe without thinking about you.”His words crushed me hard. I stepped back instinctively, but he followed, closing the distance.“Please

The airport was crowded, with people talking and moving in different direction. The noise of announcements, conversations, and footsteps filled the air, creating a lively and hectic atmosphere.But all I could focus on were the cops. They were everywhere. Standing by the entrances, pacing through security, glancing at the faces of every single traveler. My face. My picture was on every wall, every counter. The pressure was overwhelming, as if their eyes were constantly on me, watching my every move, even when I knew they weren’t really looking.I tried to breathe calmly, but my heart was racing. I couldn’t stop blaming Jaxon for it.It’s all his fault. If he hadn’t gone to the cops, begged them to search for me, or worse, offered that ridiculous six-million-dollar reward for anyone who found me, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Now, half the country thought I was some kind of criminal, while the other half was eager to turn me in for a fat payday.“This way,” Cynthia whispered, her voice