With a soul-searching gaze, Tryson fixed his eyes on Angel, and for the first ti in a long while, he truly saw her—not just the woman he once knew, but the one forged by pain and heartbreak.
It was as if every mont of her suffering had etched itself into her eyes, and he could no longer ignore the truth that haunted him: Her scars, the weight of her past, had been shaped by his own hands, by his own failure to be there when she needed him the most.
The knowledge that his absence had not only allowed her pain to fester but had worsened it with his reckless decisions was suffocating.
He could hardly breathe under the crushing weight of that realization.
If only I had been there. If only I hadn’t let her slip through my fingers...
The guilt gnawed at him as he shifted his gaze downward, trying to escape the intensity of her stare, the raw vulnerability in her eyes.
With a ragged breath, he finally spoke, the words heavy and filled with a sense of desperate resolution.
"I understand the pain you’re feeling, Angel, but believe , I am determined to make ands for everything that has transpired."
Angel looked at him with an expression caught sowhere between sorrow and disbelief.
Her voice, soft but firm, trembled as she replied, "Why, Tryson? Why now? What makes you believe that I would want you back in my life? You were the one who allowed to be broken, left to pick up the pieces alone, and now you’re asking for forgiveness? I have changed. I have found soone who truly sees , who cherishes in ways you never did. You..." Her voice cracked, a tear threatening to fall as her words dissolved into silence, the ache in her chest overwhelming her.
The room, once full of tension, was now suffocating with an unbearable quiet.
Tryson stood frozen, speechless, unable to find the words to nd the fracture between them. His heart beat loudly in his chest as he waited, hoping for so sign of reconciliation, but none ca.
Angel’s resolve only seed to grow stronger.
She stood tall, forcing her emotions down as she exhaled sharply, preparing to leave. "I’m really not in the mood for this conversation, Tryson," she said, her voice thick with a combination of frustration and sorrow. "Can you just let go?"
But Tryson, desperate to make things right, couldn’t let her slip away again. "Tell , Angel. Please, I need to hear those words from you," he insisted, his voice raw, pleading. "I need to know why."
Angel’s face twisted with a deep hurt as she looked away. "I don’t need to try, Tryson. You already know the extent of my disappointnt. My pain is etched into every corner of , and I have no place in your life anymore. I don’t need anything from you—not your love, not your pity. We are strangers now. So tell , does your family, the dia really want in your life?"
Her words cut through the air like shards of glass, each one dripping with sorrow and disillusionnt.
The silence that followed was deafening. Tryson opened his mouth, but no words ca. His heart seed to shatter in that mont, realizing just how much damage he had caused.
"Angel, please... forgive ," he whispered, his voice barely a breath, filled with the deepest regret.
But Angel, her eyes now clouded with the weight of years of hurt, wasn’t ready to offer him solace.
"Tell , Tryson, what are you truly apologizing for?" she demanded, her voice low, almost bitter. "Is it for the mistake of thinking we were ever sothing more than strangers? Or is it because you regret the decision to step into my life?"
Her gaze pierced him with a raw intensity, her heart laid bare before him.
"Honestly, for everything," Tryson finally admitted, his voice shaking with the weight of his confession.
Angel scoffed, bitter tears welling in her eyes as she shook her head.
"There’s no point in apologizing now," she murmured. "It’s all in the past. We’re both left with nothing but the ruins of what we were. I’ve lost on every front. I couldn’t reach my goals, and I had to watch my own humiliation play out. I was thrown away, discarded as if I ant nothing."
Her voice wavered with barely contained emotion, her hands trembling as they curled into fists by her side.
In that mont, the pain of the past—months of tornt, betrayal, and heartache—ca rushing back like a tidal wave, crashing over her.
But Angel refused to break. She would not show him how much his abandonnt had cost her. She would not allow him to see how much she still ached for the life they could have had.
"I’m leaving," she said, her voice low, determined, and final.
She turned to the door, her hand gripping the handle as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded in this storm.
As she stepped into the hallway, she leaned against the wall, taking slow, steadying breaths to hold back the tears threatening to escape.
She had sworn to herself, vowed to never shed another tear for the mistakes of her past, no matter how unbearable the weight of them beca.
Her fingers shook as she pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly until she landed on a photo—her mother’s face staring back at her.
The resemblance was undeniable, the woman in the photo sharing Angel’s features, though she was a little fuller, more mature.
Her mother had been the only real family she’d ever known, and now, she was gone. The pain of losing her mother, the woman who had been her rock, overwheld her in that mont.
It was her mother who had pushed her to sign the contract, to endure the hardship in exchange for survival, but in the end, it had only led to more loss.
She had no one left. No one to lean on, no one to trust.
Tryson, the man she had once believed would stand by her, had cast her aside once she was no longer of use.
His love had been conditional, and when the terms no longer suited him, she had been discarded like an old, worn-out object.
Just as she was about to leave the hallway, her phone buzzed, startling her. She glanced at the screen, and her heart nearly stopped as she saw the na on the caller ID.
Her father.
A wave of terror gripped her chest.
What did he want now?
She couldn’t bear to hear his voice, not after everything. She quickly declined the call, but it rang again, more persistent this ti, as if demanding an answer.
She let the call go, but then, the familiar buzz of a ssage arrived, and with a trembling hand, Angel opened it. The words were simple, chilling, like a threat hanging in the air:
"Angel, I know where you are. You might want to run away from , but I promise you, I’ll co fetch you."
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