No Regrets, No Return, Ex-Husband

Dominic’ POV

Blue and red emergency lights pulsed across the rain-soaked road, flickering over the wet asphalt in chaotic bursts that made everything feel unreal. The downpour had only grown heavier, turning the storm into a wall of water that washed mud from my shoes but did nothing to rinse away what had already settled deep inside me.

“Sir? Mr. Ashford?”

The voice came from a young police officer standing a few feet away. He looked uneasy, almost frightened, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was the one questioning me here—on a cliffside, in a destroyed suit, facing a man like me.

I tried to respond, but nothing came out. My throat felt raw, as though filled with shattered glass. Every time I blinked, I saw it again—the car slipping, tilting, disappearing. And her eyes right before it was gone.

“He’s in shock,” another voice answered quickly, softer, trembling.

Liliana.

She was seated on the edge of an ambulance bumper, wrapped in a thermal blanket that reflected the flashing lights. When she looked up at the officer, her eyes were glossy with tears, her expression fragile in a way that looked almost rehearsed. Perfect grief. Perfect survival.

“My husband… he did everything he could,” she said through shaky sobs, reaching for my hand and gripping it tightly. The pressure wasn’t comfort—it was control. “The road was so wet. We lost traction and spun. My… my twin sister was in the back. She was trapped inside.”

The officer lowered his gaze and started writing in his notebook. “And the victim’s identity?”

“Liliana,” she replied instantly.

No hesitation. No crack in her voice.

“My sister, Liliana,” she repeated, carefully shaping the lie. “She came to visit us. She… she didn’t survive.”

I turned my head slowly to look at her.

She wasn’t just speaking. She was replacing her.

Taking Sofia’s name, her identity, her place in the story—while Sofia’s body was still somewhere beneath the storm, far below the cliffs and the crushing dark water.

My stomach twisted violently.

I wanted to retch. I wanted to shout that she was lying. I wanted to tear the words out of her mouth before they became permanent.

But the words wouldn’t come. I killed her, my mind whispered. If I say she’s Sofia, I admit I let my wife die to save my mistress. I go to prison.

So I stayed silent. A coward. Again.

Then, a black Rolls Royce tore through the police barricade, ignoring the officers waving it down. It screeched to a halt right next to the ambulance.

My stomach dropped.

Grandfather.

The driver opened the door, and Salvatore Ashford stepped out. He was eighty years old, leaning heavily on a cane, but his eyes were sharp as diamonds. He didn’t look at the police. He didn’t look at the wreckage.

He looked straight at me.

“Dominic!” he barked, his voice cutting through the storm. “What is this? I heard there was an accident. Where is she?”

Liliana stood up immediately. She dropped the blanket, revealing the navy silk dress—Sofia’s dress. She rushed toward him, arms open, tears streaming down her face.

“Grandfather!” she cried, throwing herself at him. “It was horrible! We lost her! We lost Liliana!”

She buried her face in his coat.

For a second, the old man stood still.

Then, he shoved her.

It wasn’t a gentle push. He planted his cane on the ground and physically repelled her. Liliana stumbled back, shocked.

“Don’t touch me,” Salvatore snarled.

“Grandfather?” Liliana gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “It’s me… it’s Sofia. I’m okay. I’m safe.”

Salvatore stepped closer to her, squinting in the harsh police lights. He looked at her face—the face that was identical to the one I had watched fall. He looked at her posture. He looked at her eyes.

“You are not Sofia,” he said. Low. Dangerous.

The air left my lungs.

“Of course I am,” Liliana stammered, her smile faltering. “I’m your granddaughter-in-law. I’m—”

“Sofia doesn’t cling,” Salvatore spat. “Sofia doesn’t wail for an audience. And Sofia would never, ever look at Dominic with that look of relief when her sister just died.”

He turned his gaze to me. It was a look of pure disgust.

“Where is my granddaughter, Dominic?”

The question broke me.

The numbness shattered. The silence in my head was replaced by a roaring scream.

Where is she?

I turned around, facing the cliff edge. The black emptiness.

She was down there. Alone. Cold.

She was afraid of the dark. I knew that. I used to leave a nightlight on in the hallway for her.

And I just dropped her into the deepest darkness imaginable.

“She’s… she’s there,” I whispered.

“Dominic?” Liliana hissed, stepping toward me. “Stop it. Tell him. Tell him I’m Sofia.”

“No!” I roared.

The sound tore from my throat, raw and ugly. I shoved past Liliana, nearly knocking her into the mud.

“She’s not my wife!” I screamed at my grandfather, pointing a shaking finger at Liliana. “That’s not her! That’s the fake! That’s the copy!”

The police officers stopped writing. The paramedics froze.

“Dominic, stop!” Liliana shrieked, grabbing my arm. “You’re hysterical! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

“I know exactly what I’m saying!” I ripped my arm away. “My wife is down there! Sofia is down there!”

Panic, hot and blinding, seized me.

Why was I standing here? Why was I talking?

I had to get her. I had to pull her out.

I started running toward the broken guardrail.

“Mr. Ashford!” a police officer shouted, lunging for me.

“Let me go!” I fought them off, kicking and thrashing. “She’s in the water! She can’t swim! She never learned to swim because I told her I’d always be there to catch her!”

“Dominic, please!” Liliana was crying now, real tears of terror because her plan was unraveling. “Think about the baby! Think about the future!”

“To hell with the future!” I screamed, my eyes fixed on the abyss.

I broke free from the officer and scrambled to the edge. I looked down.

Nothing. Just black waves crashing against jagged rocks.

No tail lights. No wreckage.

Just the end of the world.

“Sofia!” I screamed her name until my voice gave out. “I’m coming! Just hold on!”

I put one leg over the broken rail. I was going to jump. I didn’t care about the height. I didn’t care about the rocks. If she was dead, I needed to be dead too.

Strong arms grabbed me from behind. Two officers, then three. They dragged me back from the edge, pinning me to the wet asphalt.

“No! Let me go! She’s waiting for me!”

I thrashed against the mud, sobbing like a child.

Salvatore Ashford stood over me, leaning on his cane. He looked down at me with no pity, only cold judgment.

“You fool,” the old man whispered. “You traded a diamond for a piece of glass. And now you’ve lost both.”

He turned to his driver.

“Call the coast guard. Tell them to find Mrs. Ashford’s body. And get this… woman… out of my sight.”

As the officers held me down, forcing a sedative into my arm, the last thing I saw was Liliana standing alone in the rain, wearing a dress that didn’t belong to her, looking at me with hatred.

And beyond her, the empty cliff edge.

Silent.

Final.