Semua Bab THE ABANDONED WIFE: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Dante stared at the address on the leave of absence pass, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The urge to immediately go to Megan was overwhelming, a primal need to ensure her safety and try to make amends. But the logical part of his brain, the part that had watched her withdraw and suffer, cautioned against it. What if his sudden appearance only intensified her pain, making her feel even more cornered?He paced the confines of his apartment, the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. The address was for a remote village, a place where peace and quiet would be in abundance, far removed from the traumatic memories of campus. It made sense that she would seek solace there. But for him to intrude on that fragile peace felt… wrong.He pictured Megan's face, the haunted look in her eyes after the attack. She needed to heal, not to be confronted by the very person who, however unintentionally, had been a catalyst in her recent suffering. Yet, the unspoken words between them, the

The sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The air grew cooler, carrying the earthy scent of the countryside indoors. Megan's parents, having finished their chores, joined them on the porch. Her mother carried a tray with steaming mugs of herbal tea, while her father settled into his favorite rocking chair, a comfortable silence falling over them."How are you feeling, sweetheart?" her mother asked, her voice soft, as she handed Megan a mug.Megan took a deep breath, the warmth of the mug seeping into her hands. "A little better, Mom. Queen's been… a huge help." She glanced at Queen, a grateful smile on her face.Her father nodded. "Queen, we can't thank you enough for coming. It means the world to us to see Megan smile again.""Of course," Queen replied, a genuine warmth in her voice. "Megan's my best friend. I wouldn't be anywhere else.""We've been talking a lot," Megan began, her voice gaining a little more strength. "About… everything." She l

Weeks bled into months. The crisp country air, once a balm, now carried the subtle chill of autumn. Megan’s physical wounds had long since mended, leaving faint, silvery scars that were a constant, quiet reminder of the attack. But the deeper wounds, the emotional ones, were a labyrinth she navigated daily. The recorded call from Lizbeth, a chilling testament to pure malice, had been shared with her parents and Queen, deepening their resolve to protect her. They had, on Queen’s insistence, sent the recording anonymously to the police, hoping it would be the missing piece.One blustery Saturday, the familiar crunch of tires on the gravel driveway announced visitors. Megan’s heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Queen, ever vibrant, practically tumbled out of the car, followed by the composed figure of Professor Mendez. And then, there he was – Dante, standing a little apart, his gaze fixed on Megan with a potent mix of hope and apprehension. He looked thinner,

Detective Amelia Vance floored the accelerator, her unmarked car a dark blur weaving through the campus traffic. The pursuit was on, but a sinking feeling of dread churned in her stomach. She was one car against a city-wide operation, and the clock was ticking. Lizbeth’s reckless driving made her a liability on the road, but Ghost’s methodical mind was the real danger.The dispatch crackled in her ear, relaying the message from Detective Miller. He was already mobilizing a full-scale tactical team, but they were still minutes away. Amelia knew she couldn’t wait. She had to stay on their tail, a single, relentless shadow.Meanwhile, in the back of the white van, Megan fought a rising panic. The canvas sack was stifling, the movement of the van jostling her painfully. The metallic scent was overpowering, and her mind reeled back to the last time she'd been powerless and trapped. She focused on the little things: the faint hum of the tires on the asphalt, the distant sirens that gave h

The years that followed Lizbeth's dramatic arrest were a slow, steady journey of healing and growth. For Megan and Dante, their love story, once a fragile bud threatened by a storm, blossomed into a resilient and beautiful flower. It wasn't a sudden, fairytale romance; it was built on a foundation of forgiveness, patience, and a deep, shared understanding of the darkness they had overcome. The first year back on campus was a delicate dance of rebuilding trust and finding their footing, not just individually, but as a couple.Megan and Dante began their new chapter tentatively. Their first few "dates" were simple, quiet affairs—a cup of coffee at the campus library, a walk through the manicured gardens, or a study session in an empty classroom. There was no pressure, only the comfort of shared presence. They talked for hours, not just about their classes, but about their fears, their hopes, and the lingering trauma that still surfaced at unexpected moments."I still have nightmares