Defeated.
Yes. Nayla finally admitted she had lost. And her greatest defeat didn't come from betrayal. It came from the fact that her heart still loved, even after it had been destroyed. Her feelings didn't die alongside her burned trust.
-Nathan:-
[Nayla, I know I'm the last person who deserves to talk about regret. But tonight, I truly feel it. Not just as a failed husband, but as a man who has lost his home.]
[I won't defend myself. Maybe everything I say now will sound hollow in your ears. But one thing has never changed, not even when I destroyed everything, it's you. That feeling still remains.]
[If you're angry, I understand. But allow me to ask just one thing, don't erase me from your life that easily.]
Nayla read the long message without blinking. The words felt different this time. There was no longer fury laced in Nathan's text. No sugarcoated lies tempting her to believe. For the first time, Nathan wasn't forcing anything.
And somehow… that hurt the most.
Nayla could sense the words were born from awareness. Not from a desperate attempt to fix his image, not from fear of losing his reputation, but from sincerity. Though it came too late, Nayla could finally see Nathan had written with every fiber of his heart and soul.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she let out a slow breath. Her back hunched as if the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. The voices in her head screamed over one another, yet none of them made it past her lips.
Her fingers tingled. Her hands clenched, then released, then clenched again. Her chest rose and fell erratically. Not in panic, but in defiance of stillness. Even as her soul had given up, her body refused to follow.
Her tears were silent, but her cheeks were soaked. The sorrow poured like rain, without thunder and without warning.
It started in her throat, then spread to her chest. Her whole body felt numb. Her vision blurred. Not just from crying, but from exhaustion. She felt like she'd lost half her consciousness.
Her eyes shut tight. Her lips refused to part. There were no prayers left to whisper. No curses left to scream.
-Nathan:-
[Sweetheart, it hurts knowing people judge me from a version that didn't even come from you. But I was wrong. And I deserve it.]
[I won't bother you again after this, Nayla. I just want you to know that I'm truly sorry.]
[If I could turn back time, I wouldn't fix what the world saw of us. I'd fix the way I loved you. I'd learn to love you right and better.]
[My nights are empty without you, Nayla.]
She read it more than once. Those words knocked on the weakest part of her heart. The part she had long buried beneath rage and pain.
Nathan sounded like the man she once loved. The man who looked at her at the altar with promises she didn't fully hate just yet.
Damn it!
She hated that she could still feel both the ache and the longing. A part of her still wanted to believe.
The broken part.
The part that remembered their laughter in silent nights.
The part that once loved him, purely.
Nayla had lost all sense of direction. Until finally, she gathered the courage to look back at her phone.
Her fingers trembled as she opened her social media. But her thumb still managed to tap the story button and type one simple sentence.
'No one deserves to be judged from a single fragmented moment we see.'
After pressing post, she felt the slightest bit lighter. Not relief, but just enough to breathe without drowning. There was a certain softness in her silence. Not happiness. Not peace. Just a quiet space no longer crowded with anger.
A tiny discomfort had dissolved. But not even thirty minutes later, Nayla's world collapsed all over again.
A new message appeared from a sender she recognized. No greeting. No small talk. Just one photo.
Nathan.
Naked.
Asleep on crumpled sheets.
A woman's arm draped beside him. Her face partially caught in the frame.
And then, a short message followed.
[Still believe him? He seemed to really enjoy what just happened in this bed.]