Love at the Wrong Time, No Obsession, No Regrets

A chill ran down my spine as the realization hit me. My car accident—it wasn’t an accident at all. Lisa had orchestrated it.

My breath came in shallow gasps as I fought to steady myself. Bracing against the cold, damp walls, I forced my trembling legs to move.

I remembered something—when I first moved in, I had hidden a spare phone in this very utility room. If no one had found it, it should still be here. Hands shaking, I groped through the darkness, my fingers brushing against rusted tools and discarded boxes. Then, finally—my heart clenched—I felt the cool, familiar shape of my old phone.

Tears blurred my vision as I clutched it tightly, my chest rising and falling erratically. This was my only chance.

With unsteady fingers, I dialed the number engraved in my heart. The ringing felt endless, each second stretching like eternity. Then, finally, a voice—deep, warm and achingly familiar.

“Dad,” I choked, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to come home.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before his voice trembled through the speaker, filled with barely contained emotions.

“Baby… you’re back? You’ve come to your senses?”

My father’s voice cracked, disbelief and relief colliding in his words. Before I could say more, he spoke again, firm and resolute. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

And just like that, the call ended. Minutes later, the front gates slammed open and there he was—my father. The moment his eyes landed on me, his expression darkened. He took in the sight of my bruised face, the red imprint of a hand on my cheek. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, fury and pain flashing in his eyes.

But instead of asking questions, he just exhaled a shaky breath and whispered, “Daddy’s here now. I’m taking you home.” He didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate. He simply took my hand and led me away.

As we got into the car, he drove in silence for a moment before speaking, his voice forced into a calm that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Julia… are you sure?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Leaving him… leaving all of this behind. Will you regret it?”

I wiped away my tears, remembering every moment of betrayal, every drop of pain.

“No,” I whispered. “I won’t regret it. Let’s go.”

***

Meanwhile, Simon sat beside his son in the hospital, watching the doctor examine him. Only when the results confirmed no serious injuries did he finally exhale in relief.

Lisa, however, was far from calm. Holding Leo in her arms, she dabbed at his forehead, her face a mask of grief and righteous anger.

“She’s so ruthless, Simon,” she sobbed, her voice trembling. “If we hadn’t been home, if something worse had happened—how could I ever live with myself?”

Leo, playing the role of the obedient son, sniffled dramatically. “Mom, don’t cry. I’m okay. As long as Auntie Julia is happy and doesn’t cause trouble for Dad, I’ll be fine.”

Seeing the boy’s pitiful expression and hearing Lisa’s tearful words, Simon’s expression darkened. The irritation in his heart toward Julia deepened.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the head maid.

“Keep an eye on Julia,” he ordered coldly. “She’s not to be given any food until I say so.”

There was a pause. Then, the hesitant voice of the maid crackled through the line.

“Sir… Madam’s father came earlier. He… he took her away.”

Simon’s frown deepened. “He what?”

“I don’t know, sir. Madam didn’t take anything with her. Should I go and bring her back?”