Chapter 29
Chapter 20
Ter hours, Colette lay in the same bed where only a short time ago, she and Matt had been together. The moon still held his scent, a cruel reminder of the emptiness that followed. She felt like a discarded toy, used and then left behind. The rampled sheets, the lingering smell of their intimacy, and the marks on her skin were all testaments in what she had allowed herself to become a possession, nothing meer
Colette was once again reduced to a role she had desperately tried to avoid: his whore. The reality stung as she realized that this was all she was to something to be used when convenient, then cast aside. She knew she needed to remember this moment, to etch it into her memory as a warning against any future hope or weakness. This night, this bed, and the way she felt now would serve as a stark reminder of the life she had been living–a life that was a painful cycle of love, betrayal, and self–degradation.
As dawn broke, Colette forced herself out of bed, her body heavy
with
the weight of the previous night’s events. She moved mechanically, packing her belongings with a numbness that had settled deep within her. Every action felt distam, like she was watching herself from afar. Before going downstain she
Descending the stairs, the found Roxy and Roger in the small kitchen, their sites bushed. The moment they noticed her, they fell silent, their eyes filled with concern. Roxy, ever the gracious hostess, offered, “Caffer? Or maybe some lineakfast? I could make test or an omelette,
- ME.
Bat Colette couldn’t bring herself to accept the kindness. She shook her heal, her voice barely above a whisper. “The taxi is already here, waiting for just wanted to thank you both for inviting me.” Her words felt awkward, hollow, but she had to say something. She couldn’t just lewer without acknowledging the hospitality
Roxy moved closer, pressing a Liss to Colette’s cheek. I’ll call you konurnow, maybe,” she said, her tone gentle, as if cousing a frightened come around. I’m sure.”
Colette nodded, but the numbness inside her only grew. She managed a bland ando, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. Because the knew now–Matt wasn’t coming around. Not tomorrow, not ever. And she had to stop wanting be him, stop hoping I didn’t matter if Rosy called her tomorrow of the day after; Colette wouldn’t answer. She needed to sever this connection, to walk away completely and forever.
As the taxi pulled away, the weight of her decision settled on her shoulders, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel crushing. Instead, it felt like the beginning of an end she desperately needed.
Within the span of an hour, she found herself at the basaling airport terminal, her fare illanimated by the harsh fluorescent lights as the queued at the ticket counter. She was purchasing a one–way ticket back to Sydney, her hands treshling slightly as she used the muney Matt had been sending her very month. The irony was not lost on him, she had never intended to rely on the fands he provided, yet nose, in a cruel twist of fate, it was his money that would facilitate her escape hem this ordeal. As she clutched the ticket in her hand, à sense of hitter justice settled over hes. He had brought her here and then left her stranded, so it seemed only fair that his blasted money would now serve as her lifeline back home. The hours later, the plane touched down at Sydney Airport, and as she stepped off, the sky mirrored her inner turmoil. I had darkened into a brooding, gray expanse, the clouds hanging heavy with the promise of a downpour.
Her footsteps quickened as she made her way to baggage claim, each stride driven by a mis of nigency and exhaustion. She retrieved her luggage with shaking hands and hurried towards the airport exit. The moment she was inside the taxi, the heavens unleashed their fury. The rain poured down with an intensity that could rival the Amazon’s torrential cascades, drumming retelessly against the taxi’s root and blurring the city lights into shimmering streaks. Despite the torrential downpour and the crowd of traffic, the driver skillfully navigated the flooded streets. They were nearly at Zoe’s fat when her phone began to ring, an insistent, jaring sound that cut through the din of the storm. Colette’s patience was worn thin: the cacophony of her life felt overwhelming. She was on the brink of hurling the phone out of the moving taxi in sheer frustration, seaming to disconnect from everyone and everything.
As the relentless rain hammered against the taxi windows, Colettes Enger hovered over the phone, ready to silence the intrusive call. But then she glanced at the caller ID, and her heart skipped a beat. It was her Aunt Beth–the woman who had reluctantly become her guindian after the tragic death of her parents when Calette was just seven. Aust Beth had never been one to shower her with affection or warmth. To her. Colette had been more of an obligation than a beloved niece. The woman had provided a muf over her head, food, and education with the utmost reluctance, fulfilling her duty with a story resignation. Their relationship had never been close, marked by a palpable distance and a mutual sense of relief when Colette had announced her engagement to Matt. The day she left for her new life, both sides had been more than eager to part ways. Tu Aunt Beth and Uncle Steve, Colette had been
st another mouth to feed, and her departure was met with a barely concealed sense of satisfaction
Despite their estrangement, they maintained a veneer of civility, exchanging obligatory pleasantnes on holidays and birthdays. Since today was neither a holiday nor a special occasion, Colette was puzzled and unnerved by the unexpected call. “Hello, Auntie Beth,” the answered, trying to mask her unease. Her tome was steady, but a knot of apprchemin tightened in her chint. She braced herself for her Aunt’s usual brusque demeanor. Instead, the line crackled with something far more unsettling. The sound of her Aunt’s sobs, raw and broken, penned through the static and struck Colette with a lot of fear. “Aunt Beth!”
The devastating news came in ragged, broken pieces her Uncle Steve had suffered a heart attack and was teetering on the brink of death. The enormity of it
hit her like a crushing wave. Her mind reeled as the processed the malization that Uncle Steve was her last living blood relative.
the wright of reality hit Colette with a devastating force. She pulled the phone away from her car, her vision blurring as a profound sense of despair engulfed her Uncle Steve had been her last living blood relative, the final link to her past, and now he was slipping away. The enormity of her loneliness settled in, a relentless tidal wave that threatened to drown hire.
Her life had already been marred by loss; her husband had left her for another woman, her parents had been gone for over two decades, and now even Uncle Steve, with whom she bad maintained a distant and strained relationship, was about to be gone. The realization that she would soon he utterly alone, in
1/2
Chapter 29
every sense that mattered, was a harrowing Mow. The loneliness, once a mere physical presence, had crystallized into a nightmarish, visceral pain that gripped het with an almost suffocating intensity. The thought of navigating the world without any remaining family felt unbearable, an merwhelming void that left her paralyzed with fear and sorrow.
Het trats began to flow unchecked, streaming down her face. The taxi driver’s soft, concerned voice broke through her numb state, asking if she was alright. The question was almost abused in its simplicity, given the gravity of her emotional turmoil. “Can you please take me to Westmead Hospital instead?” she
maged to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Chapter Comments
臣
