Bonds

-Maya's POV-

My mind went blank. Everything, the room, the unanswered questions about the break-in, the fear for the twins, all of it just... faded. My body froze in place, stuck in a single moment, unable to react. "What...?" The word escaped my lips in a choked whisper, barely audible even In the silence of the room. He couldn't be serious. Not now. Not when my world was already crumbling around me, each piece of my carefully constructed life falling away like dust.

He stared back at me, his own eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored the cold dread blooming in my gut. "I have tried, Amaya," he said, his voice thick with what sounded like genuine pain. "I really have. But it seems like no matter what I do, it will never be enough." His words were punctuated by a ragged sigh, a sound of defeat that echoed the one building in my own chest.

"Enough for what?" I wanted to ask, the question burning a hole in my throat. But the words wouldn't come. My brain, usually quick and sharp, felt sluggish, stuck processing the sheer impossibility of what he was saying.

"For you to let him go," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. "It's tiring, Amaya. It's exhausting, constantly feeling like I'm competing with a ghost but it is worse than that because he is constantly there." He winced as if the words themselves caused him physical pain.

"I hate that I'm doing this now," he mumbled, trailing off. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Please stop crying," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly.

I hadn't even realized the tears were already streaming down my face, hot and silent tracks etching themselves down my cheeks. Suddenly, the image of my life without him slammed into me, a terrifying vision of empty spaces and echoing silence. Ivan had become a constant, a presence so woven into the fabric of my daily life that I couldn't imagine it unraveled.

What would I do if he wasn't there anymore?

How would the twins take it, these little people who had come to love him as their dad, even if he wasn't their biological father?

The thought sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through me.

"Please," I found myself saying, the word a weak plea escaping my lips. It was the only thing I could process in the face of this overwhelming emotional storm. "Please don't do this to me. Please, I'm begging you."

The words felt hollow even as I spoke them, but they were all I had. Didn't he see how much pain he was causing me? Here I was again, begging a man not to leave. A horrible sense of déjà vu washed over me, the bitter taste of past mistakes flooding my mouth.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his face etched with a pain that mirrored my own. "You keep hurting me, Amaya," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "I know I'm not perfect, nobody is. But I've tried. I really have." He opened his eyes again, pleading for something I couldn't Pive.

"Why can't you let Alex go?" he asked, his voice laced with a frustration that mirrored my own confusion.

"I don't know," I mumbled, the truth a bitter pill on my tongue. Why couldn't I let him go? The answer was as elusive as ever, tangled in the messy web of emotions and past experiences that had shaped me.

"I thought we had moved past this," he continued, his voice rising slightly in frustration. "I let down my walls for you, Amaya. I believed you, I shut people out, but I told you what happened in my past. Something I've never shared with anyone else."

His words hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the vulnerability he'd shown me, the trust he'd placed in my hands. And here I was, failing him again.

"You told me you were falling in love with me," he sighed the words out like a prayer, his voice dropping back down to a pained whisper. "Why? I thought we could move past it, build something new together. But I see it now. You're never going to let him go, and I need to walk away before you break my heart completely."

The tears were flowing freely now, a torrent of emotions I couldn't contain. And through the blurry haze of my own misery, I saw tears welling up in his eyes too.NôvelDrama.Org © content.

How had it gotten to this point? How had we, two people who cared about each other, reached such a devastating impasse?

The silence stretched, a chasm opening wider with each passing second.

Then, his gaze, sharp and filled with a raw vulnerability, pinned me in place. His voice, a mere rasp, cut through the oppressive silence. "Do you still love him? Do you still love Alex?" The question, a blunt instrument, pierced through the tangled mess of emotions I couldn't untangle, rooting me to the spot like a deer caught in headlights.

My throat constricted, the air suddenly thick and impossible to breathe. "... I don't know," I stammered, the words a pathetic croak against the crushing silence. The truth was a tangled mess, a knot of unresolved feelings and past hurts that I couldn't untangle in this moment of emotional upheaval. Did I still love Alex? The question hung heavy in the air, a silent accusation.

Part of me wanted to scream no, to shout it from the rooftops until the echo drowned out the doubts gnawing at the edges of my sanity. But the words wouldn't come. They stuck in my throat, a physical manifestation of the confusion swirling inside me.

Ivan's face crumpled, a flicker of despair replacing the raw pain that had been etched there moments before. He shook his head slowly, the movement a silent confirmation of the fear that had been slithering up my spine. "That's what I thought."

Did my silence condemn me? Was this it, the final nail hammered into the coffin of our relationship? Panic clawed at my insides, a frantic need to reach out, to grab him before he walked away and took a piece of my heart with him.

He stood there for a moment longer, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Maybe, just maybe, a part of him was hoping for a different answer, a desperate plea that would mend the fractured pieces of our trust.

But the words remained trapped, tangled in the web of my own insecurities. How could I confess the truth, the messy reality of emotions! didn't fully understand, when my silence had already spoken volumes?

With a final, defeated look in my eyes, he turned away. His hand grasped the doorknob, the familiar click echoing in the suffocating silence. He paused for a moment, his back to me, and spoke.

"I'll make sure the security team doesn't rest until they find whoever is responsible for this. But until we sort things out, and figure out a way to finalize the end of things, I think it's best if I stay at a hotel."

His words were calm, almost clinical, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. But the undercurrent of hurt was unmistakable, a raw wound exposed for me to see.

He didn't wait for a response. With a final, lingering glance that seemed to pierce my soul, he opened the door and walked out, leaving me alone in the sterile prison of our unspoken truths.

The silence that followed was deafening, a physical weight pressing m down on my chest. ystood there, frozen in place, long after he had disappeared down the hallway. Tears continued to stream down my face, unchecked and relentless.

My mind raced, a chaotic jumble of thoughts and questions.

Had I just thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to me?

Was my inability to let go of a past relationship a dealbreaker for a future I had so desperately wanted?

The world righted itself slowly. My brain finally processed the earth-shattering words. Before com could even think my feet were moving, propelled by pure instinct. I yanked the door open, adrenaline surging through me, and sprinted after him. Security officers stared, confused, but I ignored them, my sole focus on catching Ivan.

I burst through the double doors leading outside, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, But by the time reached the driveway, gasping for breath, it was already too late. Ivan's car was a blur disappearing through the open gate.

My legs gave way, and I sank onto the

cold concrete. The harsh reality settled in with a sickening thud.

was gone.

Ivan was And my marriage...it was over.