No Rest 14

Posted by adminj, ? Views, Released on September 7, 2025

Chapter 14

I watch him, my heart pounding against my ribs, my breath uneven as he reaches for the door. The way his shoulders are squared, tense with unspoken words, tells me that this time, he really means it. My fingers twitch at my sides, a storm brewing in my chest, and before I can stop myself, I reach out, my hand curling around his wrist.

“Tristan, don’t.” My voice wavers, barely above a whisper, but he stops. He doesn’t turn around right away, and for a moment, I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll remember–remember everything we promised, everything we built before things started unraveling.

“We swore,” I reminded him, my grip tightening. “We swore we’d never let them get between us. No matter what, we said. You told me * My throat tightens, and I force myself to push through the pain.

“You told me that you would always love me.”

His breath leaves him in a slow, controlled exhale. When he finally turns, his eyes–those damn eyes that used to look at me like I was his entire world–are clouded, tired. But it’s not the kind of exhaustion that comes from a sleepless night. It’s the kind that comes from being worn down, from fighting too long, from losing something over and over again.

“Sophia,” he says, my name carrying a weight that makes my stomach clench. “You’re making it impossible for me to keep that promise.”

I shake my head, desperate. “How? How am I making it impossible? Because I don’t want you to be with her? Because I’m fighting for my rights as your wife? My voice rises slightly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Because I refuse to sit here and watch you throw everything away for someone who–who doesn’t even know you the way I do?”

His jaw tightens, and I can see the battle in his eyes, the struggle between the past and the present. But in the end, it’s not me he chooses.

“It’s not about her, Sophia,” he says, softer this time, but firm. “It’s about you. About the way you- He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “What you did, trying to ruin her, trying to tear her down out of jealousy–it’s not who we were. It’s not who I thought you were.”

His words slice through me, sharper than I expected. I scoff, masking the sting with defiance. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? Just because you decided to listen to a one–sided explanation?”

He shakes his head, and for a second, there’s something almost like regret in his eyes. But it vanishes the moment he glances back at her- Gabriella, standing silently by the door, watching us with cautious eyes, like she’s afraid of what I might do next.

And that’s when it hits me.

“You already chose her,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s not a question. It’s not even an accusation. It’s just the truth, the bitter taste of reality settling in my mouth.

Tristan doesn’t deny it. He just looks at me, his silence speaking louder than any words ever could. Then, without another glance back, he steps away from my hold.

I opened my mouth to argue, to plead, to scream, but the words caught in my throat as he turned away. My heart pounded painfully as I watched him reach for Gabriella’s hand. She took his hand, her fingers curling around his as if she belonged there, and I felt the ground give way beneath