The Heart Left Behind Romane & Geschichten

"Not here. Not with this." And then she opened the door and walked out of the ceremony, and left behind her deserts of silence, broken hearts, and the truth that could never be taken back.

Get out, and stay out! I hung up without a word. She didn't need to tell me twice. I wasn't going back to that house, not when all I'd ever gotten there was hate. Two lifetimes of favoritism from my parents had burned away whatever hope I'd ever had for them. In my last life, after I died at Audrey's hands, my parents still chose to protect her and tried to bury my body without anyone finding out. At that time, all I felt was a despair worse than death itself.

Chris and Collin shouted in unison. I paused for a moment. A sigh escaped my lips. I squeezed out a bitter smile… but I didn’t look back. I disappeared from the hall, leaving behind their cries and broken hearts. End

When he left the club, it was raining outside. Rainwater slid down the car window in streaks. The New Yorke night looked fragmented into pieces. For some reason, he thought of something Cecilia had said a long time ago. She had said that what truly broke a home was never a single argument. It began when one person started to believe that the other would never leave. At the time, he did not take it seriously. But the words felt like a thin needle pressing into his chest. Even so, he refused to admit that he felt uneasy.

The next morning, Darcy stood in the private cemetery on the outskirts of the Thorne estate. Unlike the cold marble mausoleum Harry had desecrated in his madness, this grave was hidden beneath the weeping boughs of an ancient willow tree. The headstone was simple, white, and bore only one name: Leo. Darcy knelt on the damp earth, the hem of her silk dress disregarded. In her trembling hands, she held the the Lot 44 she had outbid a room full of millionaires to obtain. It was the last thing Leo had asked for before the world went dark.

I'd been sobbing, my heart completely shattered because I'd waited for three days for Alex to realize his mistake and come to ask for my forgiveness, but it never happened. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I'd kept it in that compartment and left it behind when I went to Spain. I tried to pretend it didn't exist when I came back. But maybe, deep down, I could never get rid of it because my heart had always known what my mind refused to accept. Alex took my hand and gently lifted it to examine the bracelet. His thumb traced over the diamonds, and I saw his eyes grow bright with unshed tears.

“We need to leave. We have work to do.” Before we could apologize for not being able to stay, she smiled and said. “Go.” “Marilyn—” “Go.” Her eyes moved between us. “Do what you need to do.” Reluctantly, we agreed. A little later, we left the ward while Mrs. Voss remained behind with her daughter. Alexander and I walked through the corridor toward the hospital exit but halfway there, I stopped as the memory suddenly hit me. Alexander turned. “What is it?”

he said softly, “the tree needs two more leaves.” He walked toward the bronze memorial standing quietly in the garden, Eleanor and Margaret following slowly behind him, and knelt down near the base, tracing the careful branches with his fingers until he found the right place, close enough to Grace’s name to make the connection clear, but distinct enough to hold its own space. “I think Eleanor goes here,” he said gently, “and Margaret goes just beside her. Not because you’re the same person. Because you found each other because of the same root.”

I said, turning on my heel and left him there alone with a… Broken heart.