His Betrayal, Her Broken Heart

drizzle, soaking through my thin black dress, but I couldn't feel the cold. I stood between two fresh graves, a hollowed-o

mbrella over my head. I could hear his stifled sobs. I felt no

of fresh earth. My parents were under there. Because of me.

pulled it out with numb finger

a booked for tomorrow morning.

supposed to call them from Canada, tell them about the snow, send them pictures of my new art studio. No

back to the car. He drove me back to the house I had once s

ughter reached me from the living room. Soft, femin

e sound, my feet m

rm around her, and he was smiling down at her, a genuine smile of pure happiness. They were watc

ght in. In the house where my parents' bodies had been just a

in the heart of my tragedy, broke through my n

but it cut through the cheerful mov

d when he saw me. Chloe sat up, clutching a pillow to

There was no warmth in his voice, only a faint

uder this time. I pointed at Chlo

Ethan said, his voice turning

I screamed, the stone in my chest fina

hoice. It was not my fault. If anything," he added, his voice dripping with condescension, "your

e. He was standing there, next to the woman he

st-ditch hope flickering within me. "The story, Ethan. Us. You

row. "What are you talking about? Story? Ava, you're not makin

rmined to fight for our love, was completely gone. This man standing in front of me was nothing more than a puppet, his strings pulled by a

s feeling heavy and dead on my ton

an said, taking a step towar

any glimmer of recognition. There was nothing. Only impatience an

reason with a program. You can't

alm. The rage had burned out, leaving behin

lked past them, up the stairs, leaving

just the villain in my story. And