Page 183 of Broken Destiny

“I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“No,” I replied bitterly. “You never cared enough to know.”

She collapsed slowly into the chair behind her, staring blankly at the table through tears.

“I never forgot what happened to her father,” she whispered weakly. “Not for a single day. I told myself I had made the right decision, but I knew what happened to him. I knew what it cost.”

I stared at her numbly, struggling to reconcile the woman standing in front of me with the mother I had known my entire life. The weight of everything she had admitted pressed down on my chest so heavily it felt difficult to breathe.

For a moment, nobody spoke. The room had fallen completely silent except for the uneven sound of her crying.

I couldn’t look at her anymore.

Turning away, I walked toward the door on unsteady legs. Behind me, I heard hurried footsteps and muffled voices calling my name, but the sounds barely registered through the chaos roaring inside my head.

Nothing felt real anymore.

Every truth I had believed in had shattered within the span of a few minutes. And as I walked out of the room, one thought settled painfully into my chest.

Nothing in my life would ever be the same again.

49

JIYA

Slipping into a coral-coloured satin, one-shoulder dress, I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric over my hips with trembling hands. The material felt cool against my skin, but inside me, everything felt tight, coiled, restless.

I can do this.

That was the lie I kept repeating to myself.

It was the only way I could survive walking into that church and watching the man I loved promise forever to someone else. If I allowed myself to think of it as anything more—if I allowed myself to remember the dreams we once shared, the future we once planned—I knew I would fall apart before I even reached the door.

So I forced those thoughts down.

The previous day, after breakfast, I had gone to Caleb’s penthouse, convinced that if I could just speak to him face to face, everything would finally make sense.

But he wasn’t there.

I left messages with the concierge. I called him repeatedly. I sent text after text, staring at my phone between every attempt as though willing it to light up.

Nothing.

Later, I drove to Point Grey and stopped outside his parents’ mansion, staring through the towering wrought-iron gates while the security guard politely but firmly denied me entry.

Still, I stayed.

Hour after hour, I waited outside those gates while the sky slowly darkened around me. Every time headlights appeared in the distance, hope surged painfully inside my chest before fading again.

But Caleb never came.

That night, I barely slept. My phone remained clutched tightly in my hand, while I listened to every passing sound outside the hotel room, convincing myself that each vibration or noise might finally be him.

It never was.

When morning came, I tried again.

Calls. Messages. Silence.