Chapter 21
Hayley stood in the quiet of their honeymoon villa, the sunlight spilling through the windows and casting sharp lines across the wooden floor. The chaos of the past weeks–the anger, the heartbreak, the confrontation–felt like a distant storm fading behind her. For the first time in a long time, she was free.
Scott was beside her, calm and steady as ever. His hand slid into hers, warm and familiar. No grand declarations were needed; their silence spoke volumes.
The villa overlooked a quiet beach. Outside, the sea stretched wide and endless, its steady rhythm a balm to the soul. Hayley took a deep breath, tasting the salt air, feeling the slow pulse of peace settle over her.
Their days unfolded simply. Mornings began with coffee sipped on the veranda, fingers entwined, watching sunlight turn the waves to glass.
Afternoons were spent walking the shoreline, the sand cool beneath their feet, the sea breeze carrying away any lingering shadows.
At night, they would sit close under the stars, Scott’s voice low and certain as he told stories- sometimes about his childhood, sometimes about dreams he’d never shared before. Hayley listened, feeling the layers between them deepen with each passing moment.
The intimacy of those nights was different from anything she had known. Not frantic or desperate, but calm, steady–an unspoken promise of safety.
They moved slowly, learning the contours of comfort and trust, hands memorizing skin without
rush or fear.
Scott kissed her forehead, whispered her name like a prayer. Hayley closed her eyes and let herself believe in the quiet strength of what they had.
But even in that peace, a shadow lingered.
Jarren. Far from this calm shore, in a sterile hospital room, Jarren fought his own storm. His body ached, broken and bruised, but his mind was worse. The memories he had tried to bury clawed their way back–sharper, crueler than before.
He remembered everything.
The accident, the lies, the final words she had spoken–words that cut deeper than any wound: ‘You will never have me back, even if you die.”
Those words haunted him now, echoing through the silence of his room.
Jarren’s grief was raw and unrelenting. Alone, he drank–first to numb the pain, then to drown it But the memories refused to fade. Each tear he shed felt like a confession of defeat.
He didn’t know how to fix what was broken inside him. The man he had been–the man he wanted to be–felt lost beneath the weight of his mistakes.
One night, after the drinks blurred the edges of reality, Jarren sat slumped against the hospital window, staring out at the distant city lights. The cold glass pressed to his cheek as his body trembled with quiet sobs.
20
7:20 pm G
“I’m dying,” he whispered to the dark.
Back at the beach, Hayley rose early one morning, restless. Scott was still asleep, exhausted from the previous day’s travel. She slipped quietly out of the villa, camera in hand.
She wanted to capture the light–something to hold onto. The waves glimmered in the dawn, a promise of beginnings and endings, of moments frozen in time.
Hayley walked along the shoreline, feeling the cool sand between her toes, the wind teasing loose strands of her hair. Each click of the shutter was a small act of reclaiming joy–simple
beauty in a world that had been so cruel.
Her thoughts drifted briefly to Jarren–how fragile he was, how broken. But she pushed the memories away. That chapter was closed. This was her life now.
She paused near a cluster of rocks, adjusting the lens for a perfect shot of the sunlight breaking through scattered clouds.
Then, without warning, a hand clamped over her mouth. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, lifting her off the ground before she could scream.
Her heart hammered in terror.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
She struggled, but the grip was unyielding.
Everything faded–the beach, the ocean, the warm light of morning.
Only the blackness remained.
