Chapter 9
682words
Terry shook his head violently, as if I'd uttered some terrible curse. His grip on my wrist tightened painfully.
"No divorce! I refuse! I'd rather DIE than divorce you!"
He broke completely, like a wounded animal, howling with desperate rage.
Watching his breakdown, I felt nothing but bone-deep exhaustion.
This endless battle had drained my last reserves.
In the days that followed, Terry transformed.
He shadowed me everywhere.
When I went to work, he waited outside my office.
When I met friends, he lurked outside the restaurant.
His arrogance vanished, replaced by a pathetic submissiveness.
But I knew better.
This was just another form of control.
He thought he could cage me with devotion.
I deteriorated rapidly—sleepless nights, no appetite, losing weight at an alarming pace.
Cecilla visited and burst into tears at the sight of me.
"Eula, this is killing you! He's basically holding you hostage!"
She begged me to call the police, to reach out to Terry's parents.
I knew it was pointless.
To the world, Terry was just a devoted fiancé who loved his woman too much.
While I was the cold-hearted bitch who couldn't appreciate him.
Then came the call from an international number.
Asha.
Her voice dripped with poisonous satisfaction.
"I hear Terry's driving you crazy, sis. How the tables have turned."
"When you shipped me off, did you ever think you'd end up trapped yourself?"
The final piece clicked into place. "You told him, didn't you?" My voice was arctic.
"Of course I did."
She laughed, triumphant.
"I told him you'd already booked your flight. That you planned to disappear the moment I was gone."
"I told him your marriage condition was just a trick—that you were playing him for revenge."
"You can't beat me, Eula. Terry loves me. What he feels for you is just male pride and the fear of losing."
"When he gets tired of this game, he'll come back to me."
As the call ended, my blood turned to ice.
So that was it.
His obsession, his surveillance—all triggered by another of Asha's manipulations.
He never trusted me at all.
He just couldn't stand the thought of me outsmarting him, of me walking away first.
That night when Terry returned, I waited in the living room.
Two glasses of deep red wine sat on the table, looking like blood in the dim light.
He froze when he saw me. Shock gave way to desperate hope.
"Eula... were you waiting for me?"
I nodded and raised my glass.
"Let's talk."
Like a condemned man granted reprieve, he sat across from me, lifting his glass with trembling hands.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"About us. About the future." My voice was soft as a whisper.
We drank and talked.
From our first meeting at the gallery, to the night of fireworks, to the ring that had chained me for three years.
The sweet moments, the fights, the joy, the pain—all of it flashed through my mind.
Terry's eyes grew red with wine and emotion.
"I know I was wrong, Eula. I truly know it. Please, one more chance..."
I cut him off gently.
"After we finish this glass, Terry, let's end this cleanly."
I tipped my head back and drained my glass. The bitter liquid burned down my throat, closing the chapter on our toxic love story.
He stared at me, something dying in his eyes. Then he drained his glass too.
Soon, the sedative took effect.
Terry's eyes grew unfocused.
He shook his head, fighting to stay conscious, but his body betrayed him. He slumped onto the sofa.
"What... what did you... do..." His words slurred as consciousness slipped away.
I stood over him, looking down at this man I'd once loved, suffered for, and finally grown to hate.
"Just sleeping pills. Nothing more."
My voice was empty.
"You need rest. Sleep well."
I turned, picked up the suitcase I'd hidden weeks ago, and walked out of my prison without a backward glance.
"EULA!"
His desperate cry followed me, torn from the last shreds of consciousness.
I didn't look back.
