ARIELLA
I was so close.
I was this close to telling Asher the truth. To finally getting rid of all this guilt, all this pain I’ve been dragging behind me like a curse.
Because once I told him the truth, it would be his burden to carry. His decision to make. It would be on his side to decide if he wanted to carve a new path in his life, or bury the one we had.
But as long as I’m the one holding everything, every thread of this story, every scar, every silence....then the truth, the guilt, the pain… they only get heavier.
And God, I just wish I had blurted it out.
Whatever the cost would’ve been.
But I didn’t. And now it’s done. He’s gone.
And I know when he comes back, there will be no room for talking. He won’t be coming to listen. He’ll be coming for action. To pick us up like luggage and drag us back to that prison. To that golden cage. And honestly, I didn’t even care that much for me. The only person it hurt me for was Leon.
Because I’ve seen how happy he is here.
He has friends.
He has a school.
He has a life.
But when we go back, all he’ll have are walls.
Walls and rooms.
I remember the first time Asher took us there. That mansion that gleamed too brightly, where nothing echoed warmth, just luxury.
At first, Leon was thrilled. He’d never lived in such a beautiful place. A TV room. A pool. His own huge bedroom. All his stuff, his toys, the latest gadgets, he had everything. And he smiled.
But sitting there, in that house for months and months... I watched what it did to him. How the shine dulled in his eyes. And that’s the last thing I want to do again.
So what do I do now?
Do I run?
Is that what I do?
But running never really gave him peace either. What he wants..... What he needs.....is to be a child.
To laugh without watching the door.
To run without someone calling him back.
To have friends.
To scrape his knees and chase butterflies and ride too fast down a hill on a bicycle.
He needs freedom. Not some gilded box. Not that lifeless mansion. Not luxury that feels like punishment.
I bent down and kissed his forehead, breathing him in, memorizing his warmth like I was afraid it would disappear.
Then I turned away.
"Let’s just order something for dinner," I told Maria quietly.
She nodded without question, like she understood. Maybe she did.
My head throbbed. A slow, pulsing ache behind my eyes. Maybe if I drank something or just slept a little, I’d wake up with clarity. Maybe the world would stop spinning long enough for me to think.
I went to my room. I took some aspirin. And lay down on the bed, closed my eyes, and let sleep claim me. Not because I was tired. But because I didn’t want to feel anything anymore.
When I woke up, it was to Leon’s voice, gently tugging me out of the haze.
“Mom,” he whispered. “Dinner’s here. We got pizza.”
I sat up slowly, blinked the heaviness from my eyes, and followed him downstairs.

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