Rejected and Abandoned, Until the Right Man Found Me

My ankle was shattered, the pain sharp and relentless, and a stubborn respiratory infection clung to me like a shadow.

In the week I spent in the sterile embrace of the hospital, I had already undergone five surgeries, each one leaving me more hollow than the last.

Mathias came to see me once, just once.

He left me with nothing more than a cold, distant sentence. “Irene, please take care of yourself.”

And just like that, he disappeared from my life.

Every time I woke from the fog of anesthesia, the doctors mentioned how I cried, my tears spilling uncontrollably as if my heart couldn’t bear the weight of its own agony.

But now, there were no more tears left to shed.

I wondered, was this how it felt when the heart died, a long, torturous ache that made every breath a struggle?

Somehow, though, I survived it.

For a month, I lay in that sterile room, the hours crawling by.

When the day finally came for me to leave, I had hoped to find Mathias, to speak to him, to have the conversation we should have had all along.

But when I reached his room, the nurse told me he had already left, without a trace, seven days ago.

I sent him a message, hoping that somehow, he would make time to meet me one last time.

After ten years, I deserved to say goodbye properly.

Despite the pain gnawing at my leg, I hailed a taxi and forced myself into it.

When I arrived home, the weight of everything hit me. I began packing up my life, every corner of this place that had once been filled with warmth, now devoid of meaning.

I loaded the last of my things into the truck I had arranged, the one that would carry me away from everything that had once been ours.

And everything Mathias had given me, the gifts, the emerald necklace that shimmered with memories, I left behind without a second thought.

Mathias had always been sentimental.

This house, his old home, was the place where everything started. The place where, when we first came together, I moved in without hesitation.

Even now, despite his wealth and status, he never left. This house was his anchor.

I ran my fingers across the wallpaper, the one I had carefully chosen, and for a moment, it almost felt like a forgotten memory. But then, something caught my attention, a strange sensation, a twist in the air.

My fingers trembled as I peeled back the wallpaper, an uneasy feeling creeping up my spine. What I uncovered made my heart race with dread and disbelief.

Underneath the wallpaper, I found the wall covered with a painting, Mathias holding Nathalia in his arms, a picture of perfect devotion. The words written beside it were like daggers.

‘Nathalia, this is our first home. I will never leave.

Every night, I hold Irene in my arms, but the only person I think about is you.

Will you ever come back?

I have everything now, so why haven’t you returned?

Irene wants to marry me, but I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone other than you.

Nathalia, I really… I can’t hold on much longer…’

Each sentence felt like a flame searing through my chest, burning my heart alive as it fought to keep beating.

Now, it all made sense. No wonder Mathias had kept me from touching the renovations. This wall, this damn wall, had been filled with his longing for Nathalia.

How laughable. The wallpaper I’d so carefully chosen had only served to blind me to the truth.

Mathias wasn’t sentimental; he’d been holding onto her all along.

And? I had never been anything but a punchline in his story.

My nails dug deep into my palm, the sharp pain barely registering as I numbly stared at the words on the wall, reading them over and over like a cruel mantra, torturing myself until the last remnants of my heart’s attachment turned to smoke.

With a steadying breath, I placed the keys on the table, no longer hesitating. Without another glance, I turned to leave.

Then, my phone buzzed, and I finally received a reply from Mathias. [If you want to talk, come to the Belmont Haven Hotel.]

I went. I kept my promise.

But Mathias wasn’t there.

Instead, Nathalia stepped out of a hotel room, draped in an expensive designer suit, her every step radiating grace.

The jewelry she wore sparkled like the cruel glint in her eyes as she looked me over, her gaze dripping with provocation.

“Mathias doesn’t even want you anymore, and yet you’re still clinging to him. Don’t you find that pathetic?”

A sudden clarity hit me.

“That message… you sent it from Mathias’s phone, didn’t you?”

Nathalia let out a laugh, a sound of pure derision as if her silence had already answered my question.