Chapter 126: Chapter-126. (The Guilt).
I was done being the scapegoat. First, him, then the blackmailer who was behind him, and the truth I got from Matteo.
It was always him. Because of him, I got trapped in this circle. I would have successfully divorced him. Should have denied Grandpa Albert’s request to help him. All of it would have been avoided if I had refused to be part of his family...part of him.
That’s when Dave’s voice rang into my ear.
"We know that you are hurt, but we can’t just switch that off. Elena, we are not asking you to..." Dave frowned slightly as he tried stepping forward.
"Yes, you are," I said, my tone firmer than I intended, with a hint of simmering anger inside me.
"You both are. Maybe not directly, but your eyes say it. You want me to come back. To be the same person I was before everything went wrong, but I am not her anymore." The words hurt to say, but they were the truth. It got harder by every passing second to hold it in anymore.
I was not that woman anymore. The one who trusted easily, who believed love could fix everything. That version of me had been stripped away, piece by piece.
Grandpa’s expression softened. "We understand, my dear. We will take it slow..."
I shook my head. "No. You don’t understand. I need space. Real space. Boundaries, because if you push me too hard. If you try to force me into something I am not ready for..." My voice faltered, but I forced myself to meet their eyes.
"You’ll lose me again. This time for good." I said those final words with determination.
I could feel the tension still lingering in the air like thick fog.
My voice came out sharper and angrier than I meant. The sound echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and hanging in the air long after I had stopped talking.
My heart was still racing, pounding against my ribs, and I could feel my fingers trembling slightly.
I had not meant to shout.
I had not meant to lose control, but the words just... spilled out.
After so long keeping everything locked inside, pretending that I was fine, pretending that I could still smile and act as if the wounds had healed.
Now, it had all come crashing down the moment they looked at me with that same helpless concern in their eyes.
The moment those words left my mouth, silence swallowed everything.
I could see Grandpa Albert’s face change first.
The soft hope that had been glowing in his eyes just moments ago flickered, like a candle hit by a sudden gust of wind.
His shoulders slumped, and the faint smile he had been holding onto faded completely.
The light in his eyes dimmed, and in its place, there was a quiet pain...one that made my chest tighten.
He looked down at his hands for a moment before pushing his glasses up his nose, probably to hide the emotion in his eyes.
For a man who had always seemed strong, confident, and composed, that small, defeated motion felt heavier than any shout could have.
Dave, on the other hand, didn’t move at all.
He stood there across the room, his expression hard and unreadable.
His jaw was clenched, his posture rigid. His eyes were fixed on me, but there was something different in them...something I couldn’t quite name.
It was not anger.
It was not sadness either.
Maybe it was frustration... or guilt. Or maybe, like me, he didn’t even know what he was feeling anymore.
His hand curled into a fist by his side, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t.
He just looked at me...so still that it almost made me uneasy.
Sophia shifted near the doorway, breaking the stillness for a second.
I could see the discomfort on her face. She herself did not know whether to step in or stay quiet.
Her eyes flickered between me and Dave, and then to Grandpa, as if searching for something to break that awkward silence hanging in the air.
Even Emma, who had been giggling and talking to her Mr. Bunny just a few minutes ago, was now silent.
Her big eyes were wide, confused, darting from one adult to another. Though she did not understand what had happened, she could sense the tension.
The air was too heavy for a child like her to breathe in.
And then it hit me.
The guilt.
It started slowly, like a dull ache in my stomach, then crept up to my chest until I could hardly breathe.
I had shouted at them. At Grandpa, who had searched for me for all this time, who had just been happy to finally see me again.
At Dave, who, no matter what had happened between us, was still part of that complicated, painful past I could not seem to escape.
My lips parted slightly, the words ’I am sorry’ forming at the back of my throat.
I wanted to say it. I wanted to take away the pain I saw in Grandpa’s eyes, to erase the hurt silence that had replaced Dave’s sharp replies.
But then I saw something which felt like a slap on my face, snapping me back to reality.
Those faint marks along my wrist and down my arm. The reminders of the bruises caused by Josh once covered my skin, now faded but still there.
They were light now, almost invisible to anyone else, but I could see them clearly. I remembered exactly how each one had felt...the sting, the cold, the helplessness.
The continuous praying for death instead of surviving that nightmare. Every single day.
And just like that, the guilt began to fade.
No. Not again. Not this time. I thought to myself.
I would not let myself bend just because the silence felt uncomfortable. I would not let my instinct to make peace. Again.
And then drag me back into the same cycle that had broken me before.
I straightened slightly, pulling in a slow breath. My hands were steadier now.
My voice, when I finally spoke, came out quieter but firmer. "We will meet again soon. We will discuss what to do next and how to handle everything that’s happening." I said, forcing myself to look up.
I didn’t want them to think I was cutting ties completely. I just needed space...to think, to rebuild, to breathe without their expectations crushing me.
Grandpa Albert lifted his head, his expression softening a little. He nodded once, slowly. "I understand, my dear," he said quietly.
"I won’t force you to do anything. You take your time." As those words left his mouth, relief almost flooded me.
Almost.
Until he added, "But remember, you are still part of this family. No matter what happens, you will always be one of us."
His tone was gentle, but the weight of those words settled heavily in my chest.
I wanted to protest, to say that being part of this so-called family was exactly what had ruined me, but instead, I just simply gave a curt nod.
I did not trust myself to speak again.
Dave hadn’t said a word since my outburst.
He just gave Grandpa a short nod when the older man said, "We should leave now."
Then, without another glance in my direction, he turned and walked toward the door. His footsteps were firm, steady, and somehow distant.
Like each step was a wall being built between us.
Grandpa followed him, giving me a final look before exiting. I waited until I heard the sound of the car starting outside before I finally let my shoulders drop.
The silence they left behind felt different this time. Not heavy with anger or guilt.
Just... empty.
Sophia was the first to move. She came closer, her footsteps soft, and placed a hand gently on my shoulder.
"Everything will be alright," she whispered. Her voice was warm, comforting, but I could hear the uncertainty beneath it.
I nodded, unable to say anything.
She smiled faintly before turning to Emma, who was still holding Mr. Bunny tightly. "Come on, sweetheart. Let’s make something nice to drink, okay?" She said softly as usual.
Emma blinked, her lips trembling as if she wanted to ask if they were coming back, but she just nodded and followed Sophia to the kitchen.
When they disappeared down the hall, I finally allowed myself to sink back into the couch.
The quiet wrapped around me again, and I closed my eyes for a moment. My body felt heavy, drained from the argument, from holding in so much for so long.
But underneath the exhaustion, something else was stirring. A faint, growing spark.
I wasn’t sure if it was anger, resolve, or just the will to survive, but it was there, alive and steady. Ready to take the next step.
For the first time in a long while, I was not drowning in confusion or guilt.
My mind was beginning to clear. I started thinking...really thinking, about what to do next.