Chapter 42

Still a flashback 3 years ago.............

Alastair had always been the kind of woman who clung to hope, even when the odds were stacked against her. Along the course of their pretend marriage, she never let go of the belief that one day, Zaviya would remember the love they once shared. If not, she prayed that, somehow, they would create new memories-new moments filled with joy and love. She was determined to win Zaviya's heart, no matter how long it took.

Every smile, every stolen glance, and every fleeting moment of tenderness, Alastair cherished them. She worked tirelessly, her actions speaking louder than words. She wanted Zaviya to see the depths of her love. It wasn't easy; Zaviya's walls were high, and the pain of her forgotten past lingered like a shadow. But Alastair pressed on, refusing to let despair consume her.

The turning point came almost a year into their marriage. It was evening and two of them was in the mall. While walking they stumbled upon Jessica, Alastair's good friend in USA. The woman got so flirty to Alastair that made Zaviya stormed off.

Alastair watched Zaviya storm out, her sudden departure sending a wave of unease through her. She barely managed a polite farewell to Jessica before her feet carried her toward the parking lot. There, under the dim glow of streetlights, she spotted Zaviya, standing alone with her back to her, shoulders trembling as if carrying the weight of the world.

"Zaviya, Zavi, wait!" Alastair called, her voice soft yet tinged with urgency.

Zaviya turned, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint light. Her eyes, glistening with unshed emotions, met Alastair's. "Leave me alone, Alastair," she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to step away.

The sight of her-so vulnerable, so unguarded-tore at Alastair's chest. Without thinking, she reached out and gently pulled Zaviya into an embrace. The tension in Zaviya's body was palpable, but Alastair held her firmly, as though afraid she might shatter. The silence between them was heavy, filled with emotions neither of them had dared to name.

"Zaviya," Alastair murmured, her voice laced with concern, "what's wrong? Why did you leave like that?"

Zaviya pulled back just enough to glare at her, her eyes a mixture of frustration and heartbreak. "What's wrong? You really don't know, Alastair?"

Caught off guard, Alastair frowned. "No, I don't. You just stormed off. Please, tell me what's going on."

Zaviya sniffled, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're seriously asking me what's wrong? After you flirted with that-" she paused, her voice rising in anger, "-with that woman right in front of me? Wow, Alastair. Just wow."

The accusation hit Alastair like a slap. Her brows furrowed as she shook her head, trying to make sense of the outburst. "Flirting? Zaviya, I wasn't flirting with her. She's just a friend-nothing more. You're reading too much into this."

"Oh, so now I'm imagining things?" Zaviya snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes!" Alastair shot back, exasperated. "You're accusing me of something that isn't even real. Why does it matter so much to you if I was talking to her?"

That was the moment Zaviya's composure crumbled. Her voice cracked, rising in frustration and hurt. "Why does it matter? Because I'm jealous, you idiot! And I hate it-I hate that you make me feel like this. I hate that I've turned into some crazy, jealous girlfriend because of you! Damn it, Alastair, I think... I think I'm falling for you."

The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, cutting through the tension like a blade. Alastair froze, the weight of Zaviya's confession crashing down on her. She watched as Zaviya's face flushed with embarrassment, her hands trembling as she tried to retreat. But before she could escape, Alastair's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and spinning her back around.

"Zaviya, wait!" Alastair's voice was urgent, her eyes searching Zaviya's face. "You can't just say something like that and walk away."

Zaviya shook her head, her voice breaking as she tried to pull free. "What do you want me to do, Alastair? Pretend I didn't just humiliate myself? I'm already dying of embarrassment."

But Alastair didn't let go. Her mind, often so clouded by her usual bravado, was crystal clear now. For the first time, she truly saw Zaviya-not as her rival, not as the stubborn woman who always challenged her, but as someone who mattered deeply to her.

Without overthinking it, Alastair leaned in, her lips brushing against Zaviya's in a tender kiss. It was soft, hesitant-a silent acknowledgment of the emotions they had both been too afraid to confront.

When they pulled apart, Alastair cupped Zaviya's face in her hands, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. "Zaviya, don't be embarrassed. This... this is the last thing I expected, but it's not unwelcome."

Zaviya blinked, her wide eyes filled with disbelief and a glimmer of hope. "What do you mean?"

Alastair exhaled, running a hand through her hair as she let her guard down. "I mean... I love you, Zaviya. I probably always have, in my own stupid way. And I don't want to keep pretending this is just a game or rivalry between us. I want... I want more."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Zaviya stared at Alastair, her heart pounding, before finally allowing herself to smile-a small, tentative smile that spoke of possibilities. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Alastair felt like they were on the same page, standing together instead of against each other.

That night became one of the happiest days of Alastair's life. She held Zaviya close, making a silent promise to herself: This time I will take care of you like how I'm terrified to lose you. I will make you the happiest woman alive.

Their love grew stronger with each passing day. On their 1st anniversary as wives, they traveled to Iceland, where the Northern Lights painted the skies in breathtaking colors. They explored the enchanting streets of Prague, hand in hand and remake the Beauty and the Beast kind of date. And then, in Paris, in a penthouse overlooking the city of love, their passion reached its peak.

With the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower in the background, they made love. It wasn't just physical-it was spiritual. Alastair felt as though her entire being had been reunited with a part of her soul she thought she had lost forever. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of affection felt like a symphony of emotions. The way Zaviya looked at her afterward, her face radiant with the afterglow, was a sight Alastair vowed to never forget.

In that moment, Alastair felt whole again. She traced Zaviya's face with her fingertips, memorizing every curve, every feature. "You're so beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "I want to see you like this forever."

Zaviya smiled softly, her fingers intertwining with Alastair's. "You make me feel safe. Like I belong."

Alastair pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, her heart overflowing with love. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing with absolute certainty: she would spend the rest of her life loving Zaviya, whether her memories returned or not.

That night, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, Alastair silently prayed. Please, let her always look at me like this. Let this love be enough.

But fate had never been kind to Alastair. It seemed to revel in tearing her apart, denying her every chance at happiness, and ripping away the happy endings she longed for. Just when the pieces of her life were finally coming together, Olga managed to unravel it all again.

Olga Natalie Harrison-her obsessive, unhinged ex-girlfriend. For three years, Alastair thought she had escaped Olga's clutches, that the chapter of chaos and misery was closed the moment Olga was confined to a mental institution. Three years ago, Olga's deranged actions had shattered Alastair's life. She had drugged Alastair, staged a twisted scene, and sent photos of Alastair lying naked beside her to Zaviya.

Alastair clenched her fists as the memory returned, fresh as if it had happened yesterday. That night, Zaviya, her wife, had received those damning photos. The betrayal in Zaviya's eyes burned into Alastair's soul. "I saw it, Alastair!" Zaviya had screamed, tears streaking her face. "You-how could you?"

The argument spiraled into a storm of fury and grief. Zaviya ran. She drove away in the middle of a thunderstorm, blinded by heartbreak, unaware of the danger ahead. That night had cost them everything. Zaviya's car spun out of control on the slick roads, the crash claiming their six-month-old unborn child and robbing Zaviya of her memories of the past three years. Including Alastair.

Alastair's chest tightened at the thought. The guilt, the helplessness-it consumed her daily. No apology, no explanation could ever undo the damage Olga had wrought.

For a year and a half, Alastair tried to rebuild her life alongside Zaviya, who remained oblivious to their shared history. But their fragile peace shattered during a fateful trip to Thailand, where they had been faking a relationship to appease their parents. Alastair's world turned cold when she spotted Olga in the souvenir shop.

It was her. The same Olga who had destroyed everything. Alastair's heart raced with panic. She had to keep Zaviya safe-at any cost.

She clearly remembers that day.

The faint scent of lemongrass and the chatter of tourists filled the small souvenir shop in Thailand. Alastair browsed the rows of intricately carved figurines and vibrant silk scarves, hoping to find something Zaviya might actually like. As her fingers brushed against a delicate hand-painted fan, a familiar voice disrupted her thoughts.

"Alastair!"

She froze. The overly sweet tone was unmistakable. Turning, she was met with the sight of her-Olga. A woman she hadn't seen in a year and certainly hadn't expected to encounter halfway across the world. She wanted to hold Zaviya's hand and run away from her. But she knew she can't, Zaviya would be confuse and would ask things from her she surely can't give answers at least not by now.

Olga sauntered closer, her flirtatious smile in full effect, her eyes scanning Alastair in a way that made her skin crawl. "Fancy seeing you here. You're looking ravishing as always."

Alastair took a step back, her shoulders stiffening. "Uh, hi Olga..." she managed, her voice awkward and unsure. She saw the sinister look on Olga's eyes.

Before she could react, Olga leaned in, her intent clear. Alastair quickly sidestepped, avoiding the kiss that was far too close for comfort but still it landed on side lips. She wanted nothing but to beat this ass of a woman. Her mind kept wondering how Olga had managed to escaped on the institutions.

From the corner of her eye, Alastair saw Zaviya approaching. The moment their eyes met, Alastair felt a mixture of relief, anticipation, and of course fear. Zaviya's casual stride masked the sharpness in her gaze as she took in the scene.

"Everything alright here?" Zaviya asked, her tone light but tinged with a subtle edge.

Olga turned to face Zaviya, her bright smile never wavering. "Zaviya! Is that you? It's been ages! How have you been?"

To Alastair's surprise, Olga pulled Zaviya into a hug. Zaviya's body stiffened, and when they parted, her confusion was evident.

"Um, hi. Sorry, do I... know you?" Zaviya asked, her head tilting slightly, her brow furrowing.

Olga laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, Zaviya. Always forgetting old friends."

Zaviya blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Where did we meet?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge. Alastair almost choke on her own saliva. If Olga said it now, it's over. Olga's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, here and there. You were always so busy."

Alastair, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer, stepped forward and gently took Zaviya's hand. "We should get going. Lots to pack," she said softly, tugging Zaviya toward the counter.

Zaviya didn't resist, though she cast one last glance at Olga, her expression unreadable. As they paid for their souvenirs, Alastair could feel Olga's gaze lingering, but she didn't dare look back. What she wanted is just to disappear on Olga's sight.

Back at their hotel room in Phuket, the suite was quiet except for the occasional sound of waves crashing outside their window. Alastair sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through her hair as Zaviya meticulously folded her clothes into her suitcase.

After a few moments, Zaviya noticed Alastair standing by the window, staring blankly at the horizon. She walked over, placing a gentle hand on Alastair's forehead.

"Hey, you okay?" Zaviya's voice was softer than usual, tinged with genuine concern.

Alastair smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Zaviya raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You sure?"

Alastair forced a smile, turning away from the window. "Yeah. Let's finish packing."

As Zaviya returned to her suitcase, Alastair lingered by the window for a moment longer. She couldn't shake the image of Olga's smile or the unease it left behind. Yet, as she glanced at Zaviya-her furrowed brow and the way she neatly folded each item of clothing-Alastair felt a small, unexplainable sense of comfort.

"Zaviya," she called softly.

Zaviya looked up, a pair of earrings in her hand. "Hmm?"

"Thanks," Alastair murmured, her voice almost inaudible.

Zaviya tilted her head, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "For what?"

"For being... you," Alastair replied, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush.

Zaviya rolled her eyes, though her smile widened. "Whatever, Dee. Now stop brooding and help me pack."

Alastair chuckled, shaking her head as she joined Zaviya by the suitcase. She tried hard to kept her stiffness from earlier and it was momentarily replaced by the warmth of their shared banter.

The days that followed were torturous. Alastair couldn't risk Olga getting close to Zaviya again. After returning to the Philippines, Alastair disappeared without a word, leaving Zaviya behind. It wasn't an easy decision.

Alastair spent that week hunting Olga down with the help of her parents and their closest friends, Gaios and Klaud. They tracked her and she's staying at Davao. Olga had escaped the institution once again, her obsession with Alastair as dangerous as ever.

When they found her, Alastair confronted the woman who had destroyed her life. Olga's fixation hadn't waned. She still wanted Alastair back, her delusions as vivid and unyielding as before. "You were meant to be mine, Alastair," Olga whispered, her voice laced with madness.

Alastair's fury was a tempest, boiling over into a rage that shook her very core. Yet beneath the searing anger, a visceral fear lurked-the fear of what Olga's obsession had nearly cost her. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white as she glared down at the woman who had orchestrated so much pain.

Olga knelt before her, defiant yet trembling, her lips curled into a twisted smile as though she still held power over the situation. It was that grin-that maddening reminder of Olga's unchecked arrogance-that sent Alastair over the edge. She struck her, hard, the crack of her palm against Olga's cheek reverberating in the air. Once. Twice. Again and again, until Olga's smirk dissolved into tears and her swollen face bore the marks of Alastair's fury.

"You need to wake up to your insanity!" Alastair spat, her voice venomous as she grabbed Olga by the collar. "Do you even realize the destruction you've caused? The lives you've torn apart with your sick obsession?"

Olga whimpered, but it wasn't enough. The woman's tears weren't remorseful-they were merely an attempt to manipulate, to crawl out of the mess she had created. If Alastair had let her instincts take over, she could've ended it all right there. The thought flickered briefly in her mind-how satisfying it would be to squeeze the life out of Olga, to ensure she could never hurt anyone again. And yet, she stopped herself. Barely.

Her restraint was tested even further when Olga's parents rushed forward, throwing themselves at Alastair's feet. Their voices cracked with desperation as they pleaded for mercy, their tears carving streaks down their anguished faces.

"Please," Olga's mother cried, her voice trembling as she clung desperately to Alastair's leg. Tears streamed down her face, each one a plea in itself. "She's still our daughter. She's lost, yes-but she can be saved. Don't take her life away, I beg you."

Her father stepped forward, his voice breaking under the weight of desperation. "She's sick, Alastair. She has BPD, OCD... she's not well. We'll do whatever it takes to keep her away from you-we swear it. Just... please, don't let her rot in jail. Don't let her die. Please."

Their words hung in the air, raw and heavy with grief, as they knelt before Alastair, their hope clinging to the mercy they so desperately sought.

For a fleeting moment, Alastair's gaze softened as she looked at the grieving parents, their pain palpable. But her voice remained cold, sharp as glass. "Do you think your tears will undo the damage she's done? Do you think mercy will erase her crimes?" She took a deep breath, forcing herself to step back, her fists shaking with the effort it took to let go.

"She deserves more than a slap," Alastair hissed, her eyes narrowing at Olga. "But for your sake-your sake alone-I'll leave her fate to the law. Pray that they have more mercy than I do."

She looked at Olga, whose eyes glistened with desperation, and then back at the parents who had already suffered enough shame and grief. With a heavy heart, Alastair relented. She agreed to have Olga recommitted to the institution-this time with stricter security measures.

With that, Alastair turned on her heel, but not before casting one final, icy glance at Olga. "If I ever see you near me, my family, or anyone I care about again, there won't be anyone to beg for your life next time."

But the scars Olga left behind couldn't be so easily erased. Every time Alastair looked at Zaviya, the weight of her failure pressed down on her. She had promised to protect her, and yet time and time again, fate, or perhaps her own weakness, had let her down.

As Alastair returned home, her heart ached with the burden of secrets she couldn't share with Zaviya. The woman she loved more than anything in this world deserved peace, yet all Alastair seemed capable of bringing was chaos. Tears stung her eyes as she sat in the darkened room, wondering if she would ever be free of the nightmare Olga had created. Or if she would lose Zaviya all over again.

********************Everything comes back to normal. It was supposed to be a new beginning-a chance for Alastair and Zaviya to rewrite their story and heal the wounds of the past. After years of struggle, heartache, and pain, Alastair had finally won Zaviya's heart again. Their love, though battered and bruised, had survived the storm. Or so they thought.

But the darkness that loomed over them was not so easily defeated.

Olga. Olga had managed to escape the institution meant to keep her locked away. And this time, her venomous words struck with precision.

"She's been lying to you, Zaviya," Olga had whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "Alastair has manipulated you from the very beginning. She's fooled you into loving her again, just like she fooled you before."

It was as if the ground beneath Zaviya's feet had crumbled. Her mind, a carefully rebuilt tapestry, began to unravel. The memories came flooding back-the betrayal, the lies, the heartbreak.

"Is it true?" Zaviya's voice trembled as she confronted Alastair. Her eyes, once filled with love and trust, now burned with anger and betrayal.

"Zaviya, please-" Alastair reached for her, but Zaviya recoiled as if her touch was poison.

"Don't you dare! How could you? How could you take advantage of me like this?" Tears streamed down Zaviya's face as she stormed out of their mansion.

Alastair's world collapsed in an instant. The love she had fought so hard to rebuild was gone, shattered by the same woman who had haunted their lives for years.

Alastair was unraveling. Every fiber of her being screamed for justice, for vengeance. She couldn't lose Zaviya again-not after everything they had endured, every battle they fought to hold on to each other. Desperation burned in her chest as she tracked Olga down, piecing together whispers of her whereabouts. It turned out Olga was lurking just a few blocks away from their mansion in Makati, like a vulture circling its prey.

When Alastair found her, she didn't hesitate. She stormed into Olga's decrepit hideout, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"You've taken everything from me!" Alastair's voice cracked, raw with anguish as she faced the woman who had haunted her life like a recurring nightmare. Her chest heaved with fury, her body trembling as the weight of it all threatened to crush her. "Why can't you just leave us alone?"

Olga stood there, her face twisting into that familiar, venomous smirk that made Alastair's blood boil. "Because you're mine, Alastair," she said, her voice a sickening blend of sweetness and venom. "You've always been mine. And if I can't have you..." She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with unhinged obsession. "...no one else will."

Alastair's resolve faltered for a split second. The madness in Olga's eyes was unlike anything she'd ever seen. It was a dark abyss, a void of reason.

"Stop this!" Alastair screamed, her voice breaking into a sob as she fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face, each one a testament to the pain she had endured. "Please, Olga, stop. I can't do this anymore. You've already ruined everything. I've lost her because of you!"

Olga's laugh echoed through the room, sharp and hollow like the crack of a whip. "Lost her?" she sneered. "She was never yours to begin with. You think she'll come back to you? She deserves better-better than you!"

That was it. The breaking point.

Alastair surged to her feet, her hand grabbing a nearby chair and slamming it against the wall with a deafening crash. The sound silenced Olga, her smirk faltering for a moment.

"You're wrong," Alastair growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Zaviya is my everything. And you... you're nothing but a parasite."

Olga lunged at her, but Alastair was faster. She twisted Olga's arm behind her back, forcing her down to her knees. The woman screamed in protest, but Alastair's grip was unrelenting.

"Do you feel that?" Alastair hissed into her ear. "That's the weight of everything you've done. Every lie, every manipulation, every moment you've stolen from me and Zaviya."

Alastair didn't stop there. With her connections, she orchestrated Olga's downfall. Every dirty secret, every crime Olga had committed was exposed. The police raided her hideout the next day, dragging her away kicking and screaming.

But Alastair wasn't done. She ensured Olga was confined to a maximum-security psychiatric facility-a place where she would face the consequences of her obsession and torment. Alastair made sure Olga was under strict surveillance, with no chance of escape.

When Alastair visited the facility to ensure Olga was locked away for good, she found her sitting in a stark white room, her wrists bound to the chair. Olga's once-defiant eyes now held a flicker of fear as Alastair loomed over her.

"This is where you belong," Alastair said coldly. "You'll never hurt anyone again. Especially not Zaviya."

Olga's voice cracked, desperation seeping through her bravado. "You think you've won? You'll never be rid of me, Alastair. I'm a part of you now."

But Alastair didn't flinch. She leaned in close, her voice like ice. "No, Olga. You're nothing but a bad memory. And memories fade."

As Alastair walked out of the facility, the echo of Olga's screams followed her, but she didn't look back.

Back at their home, Alastair stood in the silence, the walls of the mansion feeling emptier than ever. She had protected Zaviya, ensured her safety, but the scars Olga left would take time to heal.

For now, Alastair had won the battle. But the war for Zaviya's love-their future-was far from over cause the damage had been done, again and again.

Zaviya couldn't even look at her without flinching. Every glance was filled with betrayal, every word laced with pain.

"Please, Zaviya, don't go! We can fix this... we can-" Alastair is pleading. Could you imagine that? The mighty Alastair Michelle Marquez Dee is on her knees begging for the love of her life to stay with her.

But Zaviya's words strikes like a thunder. She remain steely. "There's nothing left to fix, Alastair. The damage is done, this relationship is all lie."

Her voice is cold, a final dagger that strikes Alastair right in the heart. She stands tall, despite the tears and the heartbreak, her mind made up. "I need to breathe. And I can't do that with you anymore."

Alastair was sobbing hard and her voice became weak. "Zaviya... I love you. I never stopped". She hope she sees how much she loves her that it led her to do those things.

She look at Alastair dead in the eyes, her tears are flowing and her voice is shaking "Love isn't enough to erase what you've done."

And with those words, Alastair's heart broke all over again.

She had fought for Zaviya, suffered for her, begged the universe to give them a chance. But now, all that was left was silence-a deafening reminder of what she had lost.

All she wanted was to be the one Zaviya loved the most. Instead, she had become the one Zaviya could never forgive.

And so, Alastair sat alone in the empty house, her tears falling freely as she whispered into the void, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

But no one was there to hear her.

End of flashbacks.................................

Alastair sat at the restaurant, the noise of laughter and chatter swirling around her, but it was as if she were encased in a bubble of silence. Her mind drifted through the weight of the past, the weight of Zaviya's anger, the weight of all the unspoken words and lost moments. A soft tap on her shoulder jolted her back to the present. It was like a lifeline, though it only deepened the ache in her chest. She blinked away the mist in her eyes and glanced up.

Roux's gentle eyes met hers, and though there was a faint smile on her lips, the concern was clear in her gaze. "Hey," she said softly, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. "You're a fighter. Soon, Zaviya will be ready to listen to you. Don't lose hope, Alastair."

The words hung in the air, filled with the kind of reassurance only a friend could offer. But even as she spoke them, Alastair felt the sting of doubt gnawing at her. She wanted to believe her. She wanted to think that Zaviya's anger would someday fade, that their chaos could turn into how they were before. But the distance between them felt insurmountable.

Before she could respond, Zyair stepped forward, her arms opening in a silent invitation. Without hesitation, Alastair moved into the embrace, the warmth of het hug grounding her. "We'll always be here for you," Zyair murmured against her ear, her voice firm yet filled with tenderness. "When things get heavy, you could lean on us. We're a family here."

A sob caught in Alastair's throat, but she swallowed it down. She didn't want to break down in front of them. Not here. Not now. But their kindness, their unwavering support, made her heart ache in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. The vibrant streets of Singapore, the beauty of the city, seemed so distant, as though they belonged to someone else's life. Zaviya's face, the memory of their rivalry, the moments they'd shared and those that had slipped away, dominated Alastair's thoughts. As they packed their bags, preparing to return to the Philippines, she couldn't help but think that no matter where she went, it would be Zaviya's face, Zaviya's memories, that would remain etched in her heart. The thought of never hearing Zaviya's voice, never feeling her presence again-it was more painful than she could bear.

Singapore had been beautiful, but it was Zaviya's face, the girl she had loved, the girl she still loved, who would always be Alastair's favorite memory. The weight of it all threatened to crush her, and yet, she was determined to carry it, because somewhere deep inside, she still held onto the hope that one day, Zaviya would listen. One day, maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

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