A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Chapter 23

In the silence of the hospital room, Matilda’s eyes flickered open, greeted by a blur of dim light that gradually cleared into a coherent world.

She took in her surroundings until the door creaked open, and a figure walked in, snapping her back to reality.

Yvan stood at the threshold, his expression a twisted tapestry of emotions that flickered across his face before dying in the depths of his dark eyes.

Matilda stared numbly at him, wordless. She had imagined countless scenarios for a reunion with an old flame–the world was cruelly small, and those you’ve loved deeply had a way of resurfacing. But never had she envisioned Yvan standing before her like this.

In a manner so brutally final, he thrust her back into the abyss of despair.

Sensing her silence meant she had no desire to speak, Yvan cleared his throat awkwardly from the doorway. “You’re awake.”

Matilda gave him a frosty glance, remaining silent.

He stepped forward, lifting her chin with a firm grip, and as he met her sc

unexpected pang of pain twisted in his chest.

should’ve ended you five years ago. The fact that you’re still breathing is

your part.”

to his words. “Oh, how generous of you to spare this wretched

mocking tone matched

what?” Matilda’s eyes narrowed, her frailty masked by the lethal sharpness

stare, Yvan felt a

be thanking you? You shattered my life five years ago, and now you’re after my life again! I must have committed some grave sin in a past

you trying to scrape together

had nothing to do with me? Her laughter was maniacal a sign of someone with nothing left to lose, backed into a comer. She shouted at him. “Ivan, just answer me this–if Rachel’s death had nothing to do with me,

strike Yvan like a physical blow as his grip

voice dropped to a whisper as it her earlier defiance had exhausted her “Yvan i don’t hate you anymore. I think you’re pitiful enough that

once filled her eyes for him was replaced by a void, consumed by the

response, his rage making him all the more striking a man with the kind of looks that could drive

throwing herself towards his flame only to be destroyed and not even receiving a sliver of sympathy in return.

head, a self–mocking gesture. “I have no regrets, no hatred, Just five years in jail. Now that I’m out, I’m still alive and