He didn't want her to get into an accident or suffer physically. That was too easy. He wanted her soul to stay awake at night, haunted by the memory of his devotion and her own cruelty. He wanted her to find "paradise" with someone else, only to realize it was a cage of her own making.
Marc slumped into the chair where they used to drink coffee every morning. A deep, jagged hole had opened in his chest, but as the hours passed, the cold vacuum of sadness began to boil. It turned into something sharper. Something darker. He didn't want her to get into an
For three years, she had been his world. He had given her everything: his trust, his time, and a version of himself he didn't show anyone else. Then, in a single, cold afternoon, she had traded it all for someone new. No apologies, no tears—just a suitcase and a "life goes on." He wanted her to find "paradise" with someone
The rain lashed against the windows of the small apartment, but Marc didn’t hear it. The only sound echoing in his mind was the click of the front door closing—the final sound of Sarah leaving. It turned into something sharper
He picked up the photo, took it to the bin, and let it go. If she was going to find hell, she would have to find the way there without him.