Chapter 31

Alastair sat at the edge of their once-shared bed, her hands clutching the sheets as if holding on to the last threads of a dream slipping through her fingers. The weight of the silence was unbearable, almost as if it had conspired to crush her spirit. The morning light seeped through the heavy curtains, weak and reluctant, much like her resolve to face the day. It was Monday—5 AM—but time meant nothing now.

She hadn’t slept. Not for hours. Not for nights. Her body, drained and trembling, betrayed her need for rest, but her mind rebelled, forcing her to relive every painful moment on a loop. Her eyes, red and raw from a flood of tears, burned as if they carried the weight of the ocean. Yet no physical pain could rival the one that tore through her chest. A hollow, aching wound that throbbed with each passing second.

The mansion, once alive with echoes of laughter and stolen kisses, now loomed like a tomb. The grand halls, the familiar corners, and even the faint scent of Zaviya’s perfume—all of it mocked her. Cold. Empty. Lifeless. That’s what it felt like now, without her. Zaviya was gone.

Alastair’s trembling fingers hovered over her phone. She had tried calling her, time and time again, desperate to explain, desperate to plead. But each unanswered ring only echoed the same truth she feared: Zaviya wouldn’t let her. Not now. Not ever.

It was happening all over again—just like before. Zaviya wouldn’t stay long enough to listen, wouldn’t stay long enough to fight. She fled, leaving Alastair drowning in the wreckage of her love. Alastair clung to the memory of her—Zaviya’s smile, her scent, the way her hand fit perfectly in hers—but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough to keep her from leaving.

Her breaths came shallow and erratic, a futile attempt to keep from breaking down completely. "I did everything, Zaviya," she whispered into the empty room, her voice cracking under the weight of her anguish. "I gave you everything. Why wasn’t it enough for you to listen to me? I'm so sorry that I hurted you but I have no other choice. "

But the walls didn’t answer. The silence offered no solace, only a cruel reminder of how alone she truly was.

The silence of the mansion was deafening. Shadows played tricks on the walls as Alastair sat motionless in the vast, empty living room. Her hands trembled as she clutched the crumpled photograph of her and Zaviya, taken during one of their rare moments of bliss. The smiles in the picture mocked her now, reminding her of everything she had destroyed.

She had tried so hard to keep Zaviya by her side, but love, it seemed, was not enough. Not when built on the fragile foundation of lies and half-truths.

She knew. She had found out. The secret that Alastair had buried so deeply, the truth that had festered inside her soul, had finally surfaced. Their marriage—a lie. Three years ago, their fates had been tied together in New York, bound by an arrangement neither wanted. At first, they were strangers in the same house, distant and cold. But then, something changed. They became lovers. Zaviya had given her love freely, and for a while, they had been happy. Blissfully so.

And then, Zaviya got pregnant.

For a fleeting moment, Alastair had thought they were perfect. That they had it all—until the accusations began. The venomous accusations of betrayal, of infidelity, that shattered everything. That stormy night replayed over and over in her mind, the lightning flashing outside as Zaviya’s words cut deeper than any wound. Alastair had tried to deny it, but the doubt, the fear, had clung to Zaviya’s heart. In a fit of rage, she had stormed out into the night, leaving Alastair with nothing but the sound of the rain pounding against the windows.

And then—the crash.

The scenes shattered Alastair's world in a way nothing else could. Zaviya’s body had survived, but her memories had not. Three years, their three years, gone in the blink of an eye. Zaviya had forgotten it all—the love, the laughter, the life they had built together.

Alastair could still hear the doctor’s cold, clinical words echoing in her head: “Amnesia.”

It felt like a punishment. A cruel twist of fate. And in that moment, Alastair had known—it was all her fault. She had let it spiral, let the argument grow out of control. She had failed to protect Zaviya and their unborn child, not just from that night, but from the very beginning, from the tangled web of lies and deceit that had led to this moment.

But Alastair couldn't let her go. She refused to let Zaviya slip away for good. So, she had orchestrated it all, weaving a plan so intricate it bordered on madness. She begged their parents, manipulated their fates, pulling strings from behind the scenes, ensuring their paths would cross again. She knew she had been Zaviya’s rival since childhood, the thorn in her side—and she used it. It was the only way to get close to her again, to rebuild what had been shattered.

She had become the villain in her own story, willing to sacrifice anything, everything, to win Zaviya back. Even if Zaviya didn’t remember their past. Even if it meant living a lie.

But now, as the cold reality settled in, Alastair realized—she had lost her again.

Zaviya had learned the truth. Every lie, every carefully constructed deception, had unraveled in an instant. The look in Zaviya’s eyes when she had found out… It was the look of someone betrayed, someone broken. Every ounce of love Alastair had fought to reclaim had been ripped away in that moment. And now, she was left with nothing but the cold, empty mansion that echoed with memories of what could have been.

She had tried to build their life again after the accident, tried to reignite the spark, hoping—praying—that one day Zaviya would remember her. That they could be happy again. But fate, it seemed, was not done with her. Zaviya had learned the truth not with love, but with anger, with the same fire that had nearly destroyed them before.

Now, once again, Alastair was alone. And for the first time, she truly questioned—how could she ever deserve Zaviya's love? For the first time, she truly understood the depth of her mistake. Love, when tainted by lies, could never be pure. And no amount of manipulation or desperation could fix what had been broken.

And now, she faces the hard truth, once again, she had lost her.

------------------------

The morning was a blur of anguish. At exactly 9 AM, Klaud and Gaios stormed into the mansion. They were frantic, and when they found Alastair, their hearts shattered. She was curled up on the cold marble floor like a child, her knees drawn to her chest, clutching Zaviya's pillow as though it could bring her solace. Her face was streaked with tears, red and raw from hours of crying. The air was thick with the scent of despair.

Alastair had called them—not out of hope, but out of desperation. She wanted them there because she was afraid of what she might do to herself again. And they knew—God, they knew—everything Alastair had done, everything she had sacrificed for her love for Zaviya. They had witnessed the endless battles she fought to keep their relationship alive, battles that Alastair was fighting alone.

The sight of her shattered them. Alastair sat on the cold floor, her shoulders trembling, her eyes hollow and lost. The weight of her despair hung in the room like a suffocating fog. Klaud and Gaios froze in the doorway, their hearts clenching at the broken figure before them.

Before they could find words to console her, Alastair lifted her gaze. Her eyes were rimmed red, her face streaked with silent tears. She let out a bitter laugh, dry and cutting, before speaking in a voice hoarse and cracked from the screams she’d buried in her chest.

“I deserve this,” she whispered, her lips curling into a twisted, self-deprecating smile. “All of it. Karma’s a bitch, and it’s biting me back, isn’t it?” She let out another hollow laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I lost her again. I fought a war no one else even knew existed. I fought alone. And no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give… the ending always backfires at me.”

Klaud and Gaios exchanged a glance, their worry cutting deeper with each passing second. They knew her words were laced with truth—the kind of truth that swallowed hope whole. But beneath the surface of her anguish, one thing was crystal clear: even in the midst of her torment, Alastair held no regrets for anything she had done to fight for Zaviya.

Klaud stepped forward first, unable to bear the sight of her any longer. She sank to her knees beside her, wrapping her arms around Alastair's trembling frame. She didn’t resist, but her body felt cold and limp, as if all the life had been drained from her. Gaios lingered for a moment, her hands clenched at her sides, before retreating to the kitchen. She rummaged through the pantry with shaky hands, throwing together a simple breakfast.

When she returned, she crouched before Alastair and placed a plate on the table beside her. “Eat, Alastair,” she said softly, her voice breaking under the weight of her own emotions. “You need this. Please.”

She turned her head slowly, her gaze unfocused, but the desperation in her tone seemed to reach some small part of her. Alastair took a bite—not out of hunger, but out of compliance, as if eating was merely another task to complete in the aftermath of her despair.

Klaud disappeared for a moment, returning with a towel and warm bathwater running in the adjoining bathroom. She knelt again, helping her to her feet. Her steps were slow, almost mechanical, as she guided her to the tub. But she and Gaios didn’t leave the room. They stayed, their watchful eyes heavy with fear.

Neither spoke, but their silence was thick with unspoken terror. They knew how close she stood to the edge, how easily a broken heart could push her further into the abyss. So they stayed—an unyielding presence in the face of her unraveling world—too afraid to let her slip away even for a moment.

The day dragged on in a haze of sorrow. In the afternoon, the three of them sat together in the living room, sharing bottles of tequila. Alastair didn’t know how many they had gone through; all she wanted was to drown herself in the temporary numbness of alcohol. Her life felt like it was spiraling out of control, a never-ending descent into darkness.

By 4:30 PM, Alastair’s anxiety peaked. She had been trying to call Zaviya all day, but the calls went unanswered. Panic clawed at her chest. Desperation drove her to grab her car keys. She ignored Klaud and Gaios, who had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from their efforts to comfort her. Her steps were unsteady as she stumbled toward the car, the alcohol coursing through her veins, but her determination burned fiercely.

The drive to Zaviya’s penthouse was a blur. When she arrived, she punched in the door code, her fingers trembling. The screen blinked red. The code had been changed. A smart move. Frustration bubbled to the surface as she leaned on the doorbell, pressing it repeatedly.

“Zaviya,” she murmured, her voice breaking. "Please..."

She waited, her heart pounding in her chest. Nothing. The silence on the other side of the door was deafening. Her desperation mounted, and she began pounding on the door, her fists striking the wood hard enough to sting.

“Zavi, babe,” she cried, her voice cracking. “I know you’re in there. Please... let me explain. Please let me in. I love you. Please!”

Her sobs grew louder, her pleas more frantic. She begged over and over, her raw voice echoing in the empty hallway. Half an hour passed, and still, there was no response.

Klaud and Gaios arrived soon after, their voices muffled as they called out to her. They pulled her away from the door, her body limp but resisting. Even as they dragged her back, Alastair’s cries didn’t falter.

“Zaviya, please... I can’t lose you!” she screamed, her voice barely audible over her sobs.

And behind that door, Zaviya stood frozen, her back pressed against the wall. Her own tears fell silently as she listened to the love of her life breaking apart on the other side. But her heart, though aching, remained steadfast.

Alastair’s voice grew fainter as Klaud and Gaios pulled her farther away. Soon, only silence remained. But in that silence lay the weight of two broken hearts—one crying outside the door, and one bleeding behind it.

***********************The next day, Alastair woke up with a searing headache, the kind that clawed at her skull, a cruel reminder of the bottles of hard liquor she, Gaios, and Klaud had drained the night before. The alcohol wasn’t enough to dull the ache in her chest, but her friends had stayed with her, refusing to leave her side as she tried to piece together the fragments of her shattered heart.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as they sat down for breakfast. Alastair barely touched her food, her mind elsewhere. After a few tentative bites, she reached for her phone and tried calling Zaviya again. The screen blinked back at her, mocking her with silence. No answer. She wasn’t surprised, but the pain of being ignored still cut deep.

Without wasting another moment, she pushed herself to her feet, determination overriding her exhaustion. "I need to find her," she murmured, almost to herself. She showered quickly, throwing on a pair of jogging pants and an old hoodie, something simple to make her look less disheveled.

The three of them hit the road, desperation fueling every turn of the wheel. They started with the obvious places—hotels that Zaviya might choose. They checked the upscale ones she preferred, hoping she might be hiding in plain sight. Nothing.

Next, they scoured the city’s bars, even though they knew Zaviya wasn’t much of a drinker. The dim lights and the smell of stale alcohol brought no comfort, only empty leads. Still, Alastair pressed on, refusing to give up.

Their last stop was the most daunting. They drove to Zaviya’s parents’ house, the weight of her actions pressing heavily on her shoulders. Alastair knocked on the door, her heart pounding. When the door opened, she was greeted not with anger, but with warm, tearful hugs.

Zaviya’s parents held her as if she were their own daughter, their grief mirroring hers. Alastair choked on her words, her voice trembling. "I’m so sorry," she began, her throat tightening with every syllable. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to drag you into the mess I created just to keep her."

Zaviya’s mother gently cupped Alastair’s face, her own tears streaming down her cheeks. "Anak, we know you love her. We see it, we always have."

"But she’s gone," Alastair whispered, her voice cracking. "She left me. She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore."

Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating and unrelenting. Zaviya’s father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You’ll find her," he said softly. "You’ve always been determined. Don’t give up on her just yet."

Alastair nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She forced a small, fragile smile. "I promise, I’ll do everything I can to bring her back."

As they drove away, the echoes of Zaviya’s parents’ kindness lingered in her mind. They had every reason to hate her, yet they didn’t. Instead, they gave her a glimmer of hope, a small flame she clung to in the darkness.

Alastair didn't waste no time, she gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white against the leather as the car sped through the dimly lit streets. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the engine. Her friends, a quiet but steadfast presence, sat in the back seat, their concern palpable in the air. Alastair's chest ached with an unbearable heaviness, her thoughts racing to one person—Zaviya.

The first stop was Cass's house. Alastair barely managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, "Cass! Have you heard from Zaviya?"

Cass frowned, her confusion evident. "No. She hasn’t called me or said anything. Is something wrong?"

Alastair forced a tight-lipped smile, her throat tightening with unshed tears. "If she does, please give her a call. I just... I need to find her."

Next was Violet's house. The pattern repeated—questions, concern, but no answers. Reika, Khali, and finally Yevhen followed, each one equally bewildered and increasingly worried. Alastair felt their eyes on her, questioning, pleading for an explanation she couldn’t give. Every house they visited chipped away at her hope.

"Is she okay?" Reika had asked softly, worry etched into her voice.

Alastair’s reply was almost robotic. "If you hear from her, let me know. Please."

But Zaviya hadn’t called any of them. No one knew where she was.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Alastair finally pulled the car over to the side of the road. The city around them was quiet, save for the occasional distant sound of a passing car. Her friends exchanged worried glances as Alastair rested her forehead against the steering wheel, her shoulders trembling.

"For the second time," Alastair whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her anguish, "I’ve lost her."

Klaud placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but Alastair didn’t look up. Tears streamed silently down her face, the pain in her chest unbearable.

"But this time," she continued, her words barely audible, "it wasn’t an accident. It was me. My choices. And the cruelty of people who couldn’t let us just be happy."

Her friends said nothing, knowing there were no words that could ease the torment Alastair was feeling. The weight of guilt and despair hung heavy in the car, suffocating them all.

Alastair’s mind raced with every memory of Zaviya—her laughter, her sharp wit, the way her eyes sparkled when she was teasing her. Those memories were like shards of glass, cutting her deeper with every thought.

She had promised to protect Zaviya, to cherish her, but she had failed. And now, she didn’t know if she would ever get the chance to make things right.

The car remained still on the empty street as the night deepened, and Alastair, with her heart breaking anew, clung to a fragile thread of hope that somehow, somewhere, Zaviya was safe—and that maybe, just maybe, she could still find her.

The next day, the morning sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the living room, but the atmosphere inside was anything but calm. Klaud paced back and forth, her jaw tight and her eyes burning with determination. "We need to find that crazy woman," she declared, breaking the tense silence. Her voice was sharp, resolute. "It's time to stop this insanity. She’s gone too far. Ginawa na naman niya ang mga kabaliwan niya."

Alastair sat on the edge of the couch, her hands trembling as she gripped a cold bottle of cola. Her knuckles turned white, and for a moment, it seemed as though the bottle would shatter under the force of her anger. "She told Zaviya everything," Alastair said, her voice low and trembling with fury. "That woman has been obsessed with me for years, akala ko she finally accepted the truth that were done and I'm no longer hers, but to stoop this low—" She slammed the bottle onto the coffee table, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. "I swear to God, I’ll kill her for this."

Gaios, seated beside Alastair, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but her own face mirrored the same burning rage. "Let’s not waste time," Gaios said. "We’ll find her. We’ll put an end to this once and for all."

They decided to hire a private investigator, someone who could track Olga down quickly. They were done playing the victim. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the investigator called with the news: Olga was living just a few blocks away from their mansion. The realization that she had been so close all this time made Alastair’s blood boil even more.

Klaud, Gaios, and Alastair exchanged glances, their shared anger palpable. It wasn’t just about what Olga had done now—it was about everything she had done over the years. The manipulation, the lies, the desperate attempts to cling to a love that had long since died. Alastair clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

"Ang daming beses ko siyang pinalampas," Alastair said bitterly, her voice cracking. "All because I pitied her. Because her family begged me not to press charges when she was diagnosed with a mental illness. I thought I was doing the right thing kahit sobra sobra na ang ginawa niya. I thought filing a restraining order was enough. But look at what she’s done now!" Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands. "She ruined everything. Zaviya hates me. She destroyed the one good thing I had left."

Gaios and Klaud sat in silence, their hearts aching for their friend. They had seen Alastair’s pain, her efforts to rebuild her life, to move on. And now, everything had crumbled because of one woman’s unrelenting obsession.

"Alastair," Klaud said softly, but firmly. "This ends today. No more second chances. No more pity. We’re going to confront her, and we’re going to make sure she never gets the chance to hurt you—or anyone else—again."

Alastair lifted her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She nodded, her jaw tightening. "Let’s go," she said, her voice steadier now. "I won’t let her ruin my life anymore."

As they prepared to leave, a heavy silence hung over the room. Each of them carried a different kind of pain, but they were united in their determination. This wasn’t just about Alastair anymore—it was about reclaiming their peace, their dignity, and their future.

As they approached the grand mansion-like house, Alastair, Klaud, and Gaios braced themselves for the confrontation ahead. The air was thick with tension, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavily over them. The ornate doors creaked open, revealing the woman who had haunted their lives—Olga. She sat in the living room like a queen on her throne, leisurely sipping tea and flipping through a newspaper as if the chaos she had caused didn’t exist.

There wasn’t even a trace of guilt in her demeanor. When she noticed them, Olga rose with the grace of a serpent and greeted them with a smile so sweet it felt poisonous. “Finally, Alastair,” she said, her voice dripping with mock affection, “you’ve come back to me.”

She walked towards Alastair with deliberate seduction, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Reaching out, she cupped Alastair’s face, her touch unwelcome and invasive. “You’ve chosen me this time, haven’t you?”

The rage inside Alastair ignited instantly, a fire she could no longer contain. With one swift motion, she yanked Olga’s hand away and slapped her with all the fury she had bottled up for years. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and unforgiving.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Alastair hissed, her voice trembling with anger. Her chest heaved as she fought to keep herself from losing control. But Olga only laughed—a cold, hollow sound that sent chills down Klaud and Gaios’ spines.

“You can’t escape me, Alastair,” Olga said, her tone turning venomous. Her eyes gleamed with an unhinged obsession. “You’re mine. Always have been. Always will be. Anyone who tries to take you away from me will die.”

Klaud and Gaios froze, unable to believe the insanity unraveling before their eyes. This wasn’t just a woman scorned—this was someone who had lost all grasp on reality.

Blinded by rage, Alastair lunged at Olga. Her hands found their way to Olga’s neck, and she squeezed, her vision blurred with tears of anger and betrayal. All the pain, all the fear, all the torment Olga had caused came pouring out in that moment.

“Alastair, please stop!” Klaud’s voice broke through the haze, and she, along with Gaios, pulled Alastair back with all their strength. Olga gasped for air, her face turning red, but even as she coughed and sputtered, a devilish smirk remained on her lips.

When Alastair finally let go, Olga collapsed onto the floor, clutching her throat. But the madness in her eyes hadn’t dimmed. “You can’t run from me,” Olga rasped, her voice hoarse but filled with conviction. “You’ll never be happy unless you choose me. You know it’s true.”

"The cycle woukd repeat Alastair. Wake up from dreaming and run back to me" Olga said flashing her seductive smiles.

"Talagang baliw ka na nga." Alastair stood over her, shaking with fury, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. “You’re done, Olga,” she said, her voice low but deadly. “Run. Hide. Do whatever you need to do. But this time, I’ll make sure you’re locked away for good.”

Olga screamed, a sound of pure frustration and desperation, as Alastair turned her back on her. Klaud and Gaios followed, their hearts pounding with the weight of what had just happened.

As they walked away, the realization settled in—this wasn’t over. But Alastair had made a promise to herself and to the people she loved: Olga’s reign of terror would end.

The next few days were unbearable for Alastair. She didn’t stop searching for her wife—not for a second. Restless and desperate, she felt the madness clawing at the edges of her sanity, a haunting echo of the torment she had endured once before. She felt the gnawing tendrils of madness creeping in, a bitter déjà vu from the darkest chapter of her past. Everything was happening again. She had lost Zaviya, and this time, she didn’t even know where to start looking. The silence was suffocating, the uncertainty a relentless weight pressing down on her chest.

Days turned into weeks, the passing time only deepening her despair. Still, there were no traces of Zaviya, no news, no leads—only the gnawing ache of her absence. Alastair poured every resource she had into the search, hiring the best private investigators money could buy. But even their expertise couldn’t pierce the veil of nothingness that had swallowed her wife.

Every night, she found herself on her knees, hands trembling, tears streaming down her face as she prayed. "Please," she whispered into the void, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. "God, please… bring Zaviya back to me. I don’t want anything else. Just Zaviya. I’ll give up everything for her."  Her pleas carried the rawness of a shattered soul, her heart breaking anew with every unanswered prayer.

Alastair didn’t ask for wealth or power; she didn’t care for the empire she had built or the accolades she had earned. All she wanted was Zaviya—her wife, her love, her everything. She dreamed of a simple life, a peaceful one, filled with quiet mornings and gentle laughter. But it seemed that fate had other plans for her, cruel and unyielding.

“Why?” she choked out in the stillness of her empty bedroom, clutching Zaviya’s favorite scarf to her chest. “Why won’t you let me have her? Why do you keep taking her from me?”

Her chest heaved as she sobbed, her body trembling under the enormity of her grief. “Why does fate keep tearing her away from me? What have I done to deserve this?” she cried out into the silence, her voice echoing off the walls of her empty home.

The air felt heavy, as if the universe itself had turned its back on her. And as the days dragged on, the pain only grew, carving deep, unhealing wounds into her heart. She clung to the faint hope that somewhere, somehow, Zaviya was still out there, alive and waiting to be found. But the days dragged on, and the unanswered prayers felt like cruel mockery. Alastair wasn’t sure how much more she could take. For all her strength and determination, she was powerless against the cruel hand of fate.

Her cries echoed through the empty room, a haunting symphony of heartbreak and despair. Every fiber of her being longed for Zaviya, but the world remained cruelly silent.

--------------------------------

Update 🤧🤧🤧

Thank you everyone.

#ABF 31