Chapter 11
Unfortunately, the most vital pages of the diary had been mercilessly torn away.
A single haunting line remained. “That was the happiest time of my life.”
The following pages were saturated with Primo s heartfelt musings, his words. etched in longing for Yesha. On the day he proposed to Asteria, his diary bore an unsettling confession. “I was once young and foolish, mistaking gravel for the moon, only to lose the one true love of my life.”
“No matter how much I tried, I could never
turn Asteria into Yesha.”
“The past is irretrievable. Yet, Asteria‘ s appearance bears a faint resemblance to Yesha‘ s. In her stead, I vowed to care for Asteria, a stand–in moon for the one I could no longer reach.”
Primo’s handwriting was bold and commanding, every stroke sharp and
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deliberate, as though each word had been etched directly into Asteria’s heart.
She clutched the diary, her tears smudging the ink, blending the faded words into at blur of anguish.
A sudden thought struck her, and she darted into the bedroom.
Her eyes fell on the collection of gifts Primo had showered her with over the years: designer handbags, elegant dresses, glimmering jewelry, and even trivial things like stuffed toys, milk tea, and gaming
consoles.
Each item carried a cruel realization: they weren’t for her. They were all things Yesha adored.
The reflection struck her like a thunderbolt as her gaze met the mirror. Her red dress, her cascading curls, she wasn‘ t herself. She was merely a grown–up replica of
Yesha.
Asteria‘ s composure shattered. She sank
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to the floor, her sobs tearing through the suffocating silence of the night.
Asteria had once believed that even if they had long since faded from love, there would still be some bond, some
unshakable connection, after being
childhood sweethearts and sharing a decade.
But she had been wrong.
Primo had witnessed Yesha‘ s venomous threats toward her, yet he still chose to
trust Yesha over her.
He knew how deeply Asteria despised the woman who had shattered her family. Yet, he had turned her into a substitute for Yesha, as if her existence meant nothing
more.
Over twenty years of devotion, she had poured her heart and soul into loving him, giving him everything she had.
In the end, she was reduced to nothing more than a shadow, a placeholder for the
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woman she loathed most in the world.
Shame and fury erupted within her like a raging storm, flooding the room with her anguish.
cry
Asteria screamed, a raw, heart–wrenching
that seemed to pull from the deepest pits of her soul, a release of decades of bottled grief and torment.
When her voice finally gave out, she collapsed, drained and trembling, her gaze drawn to the mirror.
She caught sight of her reflection, her red, swollen eyes staring back at her, a cruel reminder of the night‘ s turmoil. Her thoughts drifted back to a simpler time. when Primo, just eighteen, had shyly confessed his feelings to her. She remembered how they had smiled, their cheeks flushed with youthful
embarrassment.
Was that shyness genuine, or was it merely a façade masking something far more
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hollow?
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Asteria rose to her feet and smashed the mirror before her, the shards scattering like broken memories. Without hesitation, she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut off the long hair she had cherished for years, a final severing of ties to the person she used to be.
Her gaze fell to the calendar. She ripped off its final page, her hands trembling as she read the words scrawled across it. “To wear the most beautiful wedding dress and marry the man I love, Primo.”
The dress was now a ruined mess, and the man she had once adored was nothing more than a stranger.
With a surge of defiance, Asteria crumpled. the paper in her fist and hurled it into the
trash.
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The eastern horizon began to glow faintly, heralding the dawn of a new day.
She wiped away the last traces of her tears and walked to the window. With a firm pull, she opened the curtains, allowing the soft glow of the early morning sun to flood the room. The golden light illuminated every corner, washing away the remnants of the previous night’s despair.
To her, the past was nothing more than yesterday’s ghost, something that had died long ago, undeserving of
remembrance or regret.
Asteria reached for her sunglasses, sliding them on with a newfound resolve. She hailed a taxi, her heart steady, as she made
her way to meet the media tycoon her friend had introduced her to.
Asteria got straight to the point, her voice steady but sharp. “I have an exclusive piece of news that’s guaranteed to go viral. Name your price.”
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The other party raised an intrigued eyebrow, holding up five fingers. “If it s about Mr. Chromos, I’m prepared to pay this much.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Five million, and I have one condition: the content must be broadcast across every platform the moment the wedding begins.”
“Deal.”
With a calm resolve, Asteria placed the bank card Primo had once given her, along with a USB drive, on the table. Without a second glance, she left the room and boarded a plane, carrying nothing with her but the weight of her decisions.
Her phone buzzed as the clock struck twelve, and the plane‘ s engines roared in preparation for takeoff. Primo s voice came through, trembling with an almost unbearable sadness. Yet, there was no trace of anger, only longing.
“Asteria, where are you?”
