Leaving Him Was Her New Beginning

The location-tracking app had always been there, a silent reminder of the bond Odette and Benedict once shared. Installed together before their marriage, it had been a symbol of safety. Now, it only felt like a haunting presence, one they both left on, even as their love faded.

Odette returned home alone, the weight of her heart heavier with each step.

Nine days. Only nine days left.

She stood in the rain, her eyes raw and swollen, watching as the workers chopped down the crabapple trees in the yard, the ones she had cherished above all.

As each tree fell, Odette felt as though a part of her soul was uprooted with it. The promise they had shared, the dream of swinging beneath the blooming branches, slipped further away with each falling bough.

“When the crabapple flowers bloom, we’ll swing together in the yard, alright?”

It had been their promise.

But now, there was no waiting for those flowers to bloom.

She stared at the crumpled remnants of the trees, lost in the past, her heart too broken to hold on to hope.

“What a pity. These trees were so well cared for... They would’ve bloomed next month,” one worker whispered, his voice tinged with regret.

“Doesn’t matter. If the madam doesn’t want them, they’re gone. In Mr. Evander’s heart, her word is law,” the other murmured as the trees fell one by one.

After the loss of the crabapple trees, Odette’s long-dormant pancreatitis flared up violently. The pain hit her like a storm, leaving her disoriented and lost in a fog.

In her haze, she tried calling Benedict repeatedly, but each ring went unanswered.

Eventually, the pain became too much, and in the blur of her last moments of consciousness, she managed to call for an ambulance before slipping into darkness.

The following day, Benedict returned home, stumbling through the door, reeking of alcohol after a night of indulgence.

As he passed through the yard, he stopped, staring blankly at the barren space where the crabapple trees had once stood. His eyes lingered for a moment, but he didn’t notice the emptiness that had settled in the air.

Without a second thought, he bent over and vomited where the trees had been.

A moment of clarity washed over him as he straightened, feeling slightly more sober. He staggered into the house, making his way upstairs to the master bedroom.

When he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled Odette into his arms, his body craving the comfort of her warmth.

He sighed deeply, trying to find peace in the silence.

But just as he settled, the distant wail of an ambulance siren sliced through the stillness.

Startled, Benedict gently pushed Odette aside, only to find her frowning, unconscious, completely unaware of his presence.

A sudden chill ran down Benedict’s spine as he realized something was horribly wrong. Without a second thought, he scooped Odette into his arms and rushed downstairs.

“Dr. Clarendon called the hospital; she’s having a pancreatitis attack,” one of Odette’s colleagues explained, worry thick in their voice.

“Get her to the hospital. Now!” Benedict ordered, trying to keep his voice steady, but his body betrayed him, shaking with anxiety.

It wasn’t the first time Odette had faced this attack. But the last time had been years ago, three or four to be exact.

Her intense work schedule, skipping meals, staying up far too late, and always putting herself last had been the culprit back then.

Since being with Benedict, though, those attacks had become a distant memory, thanks to his careful attention to her health.

Now, as he clutched her hand, a rush of guilt surged through him as he stared at the missed calls from Millicent.

Without a second thought, he dismissed her call with a sharp tap of his finger, a cold decision that felt oddly right.

At the hospital, Odette was rushed into emergency care.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Benedict’s frantic face, his eyes bloodshot from worry.

“Baby, you scared me to death,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand.

Tears slipped quietly down Odette’s cheeks, yet she remained silent, her heart heavy with words she couldn’t find.

For the next three days, Benedict hardly left her side, his presence a constant, though his mind lingered elsewhere; whenever Millicent called, a pang of guilt gnawed at him.

The day Odette was finally discharged, Benedict held her gently as they walked through the yard. It was then that he noticed the absence; the crabapple trees were gone.

“What happened to the trees? Where are our crabapple trees? Who would dare destroy them?”

Fury surged within him as he turned to the housekeeper, Caroline, who trembled under his gaze.

“I had them cut down. They died,” Odette replied softly, her face as pale as the winter sky, yet a faint, forced smile played on her lips, masking the storm inside.