SASHA’S POV
“How could you?” I whispered, tears spilling freely down my face. “How could you do this to me? To my family?”
He finally spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “Sasha, I-”
“No!” I snapped, cutting him off, holding up a hand to stop whatever excuse he was about to offer. “I don’t want to hear it. You shot my father. My father, Sebastian!”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“There’s always a choice!” I shot back, my voice rising in disbelief. “And you chose to pull the trigger!”
He took a step toward me, his hands outstretched as if to comfort me, but I recoiled, shaking my head violently.
“Don’t,” I warned, my voice trembling. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
The hallway fell silent, the air between us thick with everything we couldn’t say. My mind raced, memories of every kiss, every promise, every vulnerable moment flashing before my eyes. All of it-tainted now, overshadowed by the truth of what he’d done.
“I trusted you,” I said, my voice breaking. “I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? By tearing my family apart?”
His jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice low and pained. “Everything I did-everything I’ve ever done-was to protect you.”
I laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and cold. “Protect me? You call this protection? You nearly killed my father!”
His shoulders slumped, his composure cracking. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
“Sorry?” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “You think that fixes this? You think it erases what you’ve done?”
He said nothing, his silence a chasm between us.
“I can’t do this,” I said finally, my voice trembling as I forced the words out. “I can’t be with you. Not after this.”
“Sasha, please-”
“No.” I held up a hand, silencing him. “Leave. Leave my father, my family… and me. I don’t want to see you again.”
For a moment, he hesitated, searching my eyes for any sign of forgiveness. But when he found none, he nodded silently and turned to leave.
As he disappeared around the corner, I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give out beneath me. Sliding to the floor, I buried my face in my hands, sobs wracking my body.
The man I had loved, trusted, and given my whole heart to had destroyed everything I held dear.
And now, I was left to pick up the pieces of my shattered life alone.
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and wilted flowers, and it grated on my nerves as I pushed my father’s wheelchair toward the exit.
The cold air-conditioned halls were filled with the faint hum of machines and occasional voices of nurses.
Each sound amplified the tension knotting in my chest. My father’s release from the hospital was supposed to be a moment of celebration, but instead, It felt like a breaking point.
Sebastian trailed behind us, his polished shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor.
His presence was a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong between us.
He had been trying to talk to me since the doctor handed over my father’s discharge papers, his voice soft and pleading, but I hadn’t given him a single chance.
“Sasha,” Sebastian began again as we neared the main entrance, his tone filled with that infuriating mix of patience and desperation. “Please, just listen”
I didn’t even glance back. “Not now,” I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on the wheelchair handles.
My father turned slightly in his seat, looking up at me with a mix of concern and quiet understanding.
“Sasha,” he said gently, his tone holding an edge of warning.
Then he looked at Sebastian. “Young man, I believe my daughter has made herself clear. If she doesn’t want to speak with you right now, you should respect that.”
My breath hitched at the calm yet firm way my father addressed him.
It was a rare moment to see my father confront anyone, especially with such quiet authority. Sebastian, to his credit, stopped in his tracks. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, but I didn’t turn around.
The sliding doors hissed open as we stepped into the cool evening air. I scanned the street frantically, my eyes landing on a yellow cab idling a short distance away. Relief washed over me as I waved it down.
The cab pulled up to the curb, and I helped my father out of the wheelchair. His movements were slow and careful, his recovery still fragile, but he managed to stand with minimal assistance.
The driver got out to fold the wheelchair and stow it in the trunk while I guided my father into the back seat.
Sebastian stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored trousers.
He looked like he wanted to say something, to follow us, but he stayed rooted to the spot. For once, he didn’t push. Maybe my father’s words had finally struck a chord.
I climbed into the cab beside my father and slammed the door shut. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as the driver pulled away from the hospital.
The city blurred outside the window, neon lights and rushing cars blending into a dizzying haze.
The silence in the cab was heavy. My father sat beside me, his hands resting on his lap, his face turned toward the window.
I couldn’t tell if he was lost in thought or giving me space. Either way, I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to explain myself, not to him and certainly not to Sebastian.
When we arrived at the small apartment building I used to call home, the sight of its familiar brick facade tugged at something deep inside me.
It wasn’t grand or luxurious like Sebastian’s mansion, but it had been mine, a place where I had built my independence, where life had felt simpler.
The cab driver helped unload the wheelchair, and I guided my father into the building.
The climb up the few steps to the entrance was slow, but we managed.
The elevator ride to my old floor was silent, save for the faint hum of the machinery.
Once inside the apartment, I felt a strange mix of comfort and sorrow. Everything looked exactly as I’d left it, the worn sofa, the small dining table, the stack of books on the shelf.
It was like stepping into a time capsule of my former life, one that felt so far removed from the chaos of the present.
“I’m going to rest for a bit,” my father said, breaking the silence.
His voice was gentle, but his eyes were sharp, watching me closely. He knew something was wrong
of course he did, but he didn’t press.
“Okay,” I said softly, guiding him to the bedroom I had prepared for him earlier. After making sure he was comfortable, I left the room and closed the door quietly behind me.
The moment I was alone, the weight of everything crashed down on me. My chest tightened, and my vision blurred as hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.