Late one night, my phone rang.It was Amelia.“Honey, who is it?”“Amelia,” I answered softly.Isabella paused for a moment. “Answer it. Maybe it’s something urgent.”I picked up the call.“Nicholas…”“It’s me. Is something wrong?”“Nicholas... I’m so tired,” her voice was hoarse, sounding like someone who hadn’t spoken in a very long time.Isabella opened Austin’s video feed on her phone.In the video, Austin was flying into a rage once again, holding a knife against his own neck to threaten Amelia.The background was their former home in Seabrook—now completely wrecked and littered with broken clutter, clearly the aftermath of a violent struggle.“Nicholas... I regret everything.”“It’s too late,” I said calmly. “Go get some sleep.”“Nicholas... when I left you three years ago, it wasn’t because I loved Austin. I was just unwilling to let go of the past. I wanted him to see how good I was... but I was wrong. I never imagined I would lose you.”“It’s all in the past now
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