Chapter 17
Primo froze, his heart skipping a beat.
He raised his hand instinctively, only to realize two warm tears had slid down his cheek, leaving a trail behind.
Staring at the shimmering droplets on his fingertips, he couldn’t believe what he
saw.
Was he crying?
Crying for Asteria?
While his mind reeled, Asteria slammed the door shut with a force that echoed through the room.
The sound of the door striking the frame made the tears on his fingertips quiver before they silently evaporated into the air.
Inside the room, Asteria, too, found herself
unable to hold back the tears.
After all, she was human, not some
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emotionless machine. She couldn‘ t just snap her fingers and erase all the ghosts of the past.
Her mind drifted back to the diary, the Pandora’s box she had never dared open.
The revolting and degrading truth clung to her like a persistent shadow, impossible to shake off.
In Primo’s diary, Yesha was the light that pierced through his darkest moments, the brightest spark in his otherwise dull existence.
He spoke of the first time he met Yesha, remembering it with such intensity that it seemed to captivate his very soul.
He used words dripping with affection, speaking of his longing and gratitude for her. He was oblivious to all Asteria’s sacrifices during that time.
While Primo and Yesha basked in their
shared joy, Asteria poured her heart into salvaging Primo’s failing business,
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emptying her savings to cover the losses.
She visited client after client, bowing in apology, enduring every insult and humiliation to give Primo another shot.
For Primo, Asteria did it all.
She knelt in the snow, begging for mercy.
She sat in smoke–filled rooms, drinking and schmoozing, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
She drank herself into a state that led to a miscarriage and hospitalization, all in the name of closing a deal.
Asteria still remembered waking up that day, the first thought not being her condition but rather a message she
excitedly sent to Primo,
“Don’t worry, the company is saved.”
Primo didn’t respond.
Looking back, she knew he must have been wrapped up in his new world with Yesha,
Chapter 17
too busy to even spare a glance at her.
When Isabelle came downstairs, she found her daughter slumped against the door, tears silently streaming down her face.
She rushed over, pulling her into a tight
embrace.
“Asteria, don’t cry. Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.
Though the person outside had already left, the thorn in Asteria‘ s heart would remain lodged there forever.
She buried her face in her mother’s arms and finally spoke the words she’d kept locked away for so long.
“Why does he love Yesha so much? What’s so special about her? Their first meeting was love at first sight, but what about our ten years together?”
“He tattooed Yesha‘ s name on his chest and said it was to remember the painful years, to motivate himself. But what he
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really wants to remember is her.”
Hearing her daughter’s sobs, Isabelle felt her heart crack in two.
She gently patted her daughter’s back, yet the words she longed to say seemed to vanish before they could take form.
No comfort felt sufficient; no phrase felt right in the face of such raw emotion.
Isabelle knew this pain all too well. She understood that sometimes, growth came through heartache and tears.
She couldn’t take away her daughter‘ s sorrow, but she could offer the quiet strength of a mother‘ s embrace.
Asteria cried for what seemed like an
eternity as if trying to purge every ounce of grief from her soul,
But as the tears slowed and the ache in her chest began to settle, Asteria suddenly became clear.
That night, she tossed and turned, the
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realization growing clearer with each passing hour: there were things she needed to confront with Primo.
Not for him, but for the years they had shared, the years that had built her up and torn her down.
