His Love, My Hell, Her Justice

l equipment. My head throbbed, my body ached, and my throat felt raw and s

ked, my voice

ed eyes, leaned over me. "Ms. Mathis

frantic urgency in my voice

placing her professional calm. "I'm so sorry, dear. Your

sterile room, somehow made it more real, more devastating. A choked sob escaped my lips, tearing through my raw thro

hick with grief and a dawning, terrible realization. "

What I can tell you is that your mother's condition was critical when she was fo

llowed it. He had stood by and let my mother die. And it wa

ing colder, harder. It was no longer just sorrow. It was rage. A b

ad repaid that love with betrayal, with cruelty, with the death of my m

a fierce whisper, the words tasting like

the arrangements for my mother alone. No one from Ezekiel's side called, no on

latives. Ezekiel and Isolde were nowhere to be seen. They were probably celebrating, I

s ashes, to my chest. It was all that was left of her. M

nt door was still splintered, the sign of the violence that had taken my mother. I walked throu

with him. He sat on a pristine sofa, an untouched island in th

is voice devoid of em

zekiel," I stated, my voice flat, holding bac

dent. Isolde was under duress. She was distraught. You pushing her to such

oke into my mother's house! She attac

if discussing a business deal. "She was merely defending herself and her reputation. And as for the paramedic

r he pretended to. It didn't matter

has requested that, in light of the... unfortunate incident, we grant her legal immunity

nt me to pardon the woman

sted, extending the document. "For

he document from his hand, tearing it into a hundred pieces.

hatred. "I will never pardon that mo

e, then hardened into cold fury. He grabbed my arm, his

Brielle," he growled. "Yo

cing before my eyes. My grip on the urn loosened. It clattered to the floor, the lid popping ope

the pain, but from the horror.

of something resembling regret or shock. But it vanished as qu

e said, his voice stiff. "This is you

my vision blurred by tears of rage an

barely audible, choked with despair. "They k

I recognized from Isolde. He checked the screen, and his face immediat

to the spilled ashes. "Isolde, my love? What's wrong? Are you

to my agony, to the desecration of my mother's remains. He w

ng right away. Don't worry, I'll take care of everyth

ern for Isolde. He turned back to me, his tender

that explained everything. "She was fee

He pulled a fresh set of papers from his pocket, divorce papers, and another pardon for Isolde. "You w

out, gesturing at the spilled ashes. "You thi

le. You lashed out. You're upset. I understand. Bu

make him see, to break through his delusion. "She's

le? Do you think I wouldn't have checked? Isolde i

. I will make sure you cannot work, cannot have a home, cannot even buy food. Everything you have, everything you could ever hope for, will be gone.

ashes. He was going to rescue Isolde, leave me to clean up the remains of my mother, and force me to sign away my free

it, Brielle. Unless you want more of this." He gest

ooked at the pen, then at the scattered remains of my

ic cold and hard. I looked at the divorce papers, the pardo

racing his lips. "Good," he said, as if I had just done

ithout even a flicker of compassion for my devastation. Th

rpet. The enormity of what had just happened, of what I had just signed, crashed over me.

was impossible. It mixed with the blood, with the dust, with the shattered fragments

d from my soul. "I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't

t the end. This was the beginning. They thought they had broken me. They thought they had w