004

The room gradually emptied, everyone leaving her behind as she remained seated, engulfed in unending, devastating pain. She suddenly dropped to the ground, struggling to breathe, her body sprawled on the cold floor, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed.

Layla reached for a glass of water, but instead her hand struck the table, sending plates crashing to the floor.

A maid came running in, shaking nervously as she dropped to her knees beside her.

“Mrs. Watson, stay with me. Can you hear me?” she pleaded as she hurriedly grabbed a glass of water. She pressed it to Layla’s lips, carefully forcing the water into her mouth, gently closing her jaw so she could swallow.

Layla’s breathing slowly returned, but her eyes remained shut. The maid helped her up from the floor and settled her back onto the chair, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

Layla had been through worse and survived. This episode was nothing compared to what she had endured before. Yet the maid couldn’t understand why Layla still tried so hard to please people who never appreciated her.

She stood beside her, softly patting her chest, silently praying she would feel better.

It didn’t take long before Layla’s eyelids twitched, then flew open.

“Do you feel better? Is there anything I should get you?” the maid asked anxiously, her hands trembling as she held Layla from behind.

Layla raised her hand weakly in response, and the maid let out a relieved sigh.

“You cried throughout the night. You shouldn’t have engaged in a conversation with them. It always ends like this, and you know it.”

Layla quietly glanced at the maid. If she had heard her crying throughout the night, what about her husband, whose room wasn’t far from hers?

He must have heard her but had intentionally refused to check on her.

Layla didn’t know who to blame for the miserable life she was living. Maybe it was her fault for agreeing to the marriage in the first place. It had nothing to do with money; all she wanted was genuine love. That was all.

Growing up without a family, she had thought it would be nice to finally have one, to know how it felt.

But the very family she longed for was the one hurting her, especially with her daughter involved.

“Thank you for coming to my aid. Please clear the table. I’ll be in my room,” she said quietly.

“Yes, Mrs. Watson,” the maid replied, stepping forward to help her up, but Layla gestured for her not to bother.

She rose to her feet, standing tall despite the pain tearing through her chest. She made her way to the stairs, marched into her room, and stopped in front of the mirror.

She stared at her reflection, tears threatening to fall, but she refused to let them. How long would she keep crying? How long would she endure the pain they caused her? It's been eight years, and still the same story. When would it end?

Ashley was back in his life. Her daughter had already taken sides. Ashley was even pregnant with his child. Things would only get worse from here.

She was nothing but a slave in that house, and with Ashley around, her mother-in-law would make her suffer even more.

The harassment she would face might eventually end her life, and with her health deteriorating, having only half a year left to live, she began to think of walking away.

Ashley was only favored because of the connection her family has with elite families in the country, which would help Nolan in building a better empire.

The thought of her leaving remains, but who would take her in? Where would she go if she left? The orphanage?

'No, I’m too old to return there. Most of the children my age would have left long ago to fend for themselves,' she thought.

There was no one to run to, and leaving them behind was the best gift she could give herself. With only half a year left to live, the best thing she could do was choose her happiness until her last day.

Layla let out a heavy sigh and turned toward the bathroom. Minutes later, she changed into a loose gown.

When she was done, she stood before her wardrobe for a moment before crouching down to retrieve the few items she remembered bringing with her when she first entered the house.

There weren’t many. She would rather not leave with anything he had ever given her as his wife.

As she stepped out of the house, she carried only one thing with her: hope. Hope of starting her life elsewhere.

Even though she wasn’t certain how things would turn out for her, she still believed leaving them was the best option.

Most parents stayed because of their child or children, but she had nothing like that to her name. She was a failed mother, one who couldn’t raise her child well, and it was the one regret she carried the most.

Being ignored by her husband and his mother wouldn’t have hurt this deeply, but her daughter going astray was the biggest scar she bore. It was time to move on, to let go, and to finally live for herself.

Once she was done packing, she picked up her phone, placed it on the wardrobe, and then turned to leave with her bag.

Layla exited the room and headed toward her daughter’s room. She stood by the doorframe, glanced around briefly, then gently pulled the door closed.

She swallowed hard as she approached the stairs. By the time she reached the living room, a few tears slipped from her eyes, though she quickly wiped them away.

“This isn’t the time to cry. They’re better off without me. I’m always the one causing chaos when they need peace. I should go. I need to heal and have a life of my own,” she murmured.

She found herself smiling, and it felt good. This was how she wanted to live for the rest of her days.

“Goodbye, Zara,” she whispered, then turned on her heels.

Layla stepped into the cold street, memories of the past eight years flooding her mind as she walked toward an unknown destination. It had been a hectic life with them, but now she was at peace.

She would finally be free.

As she marched toward her not certain destination, a car sped in her direction. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the horn blaring, warning her to move out of the way.

By the time she realized a car was coming, it was too late. It brushed against her, sending her crashing to the ground.