A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Chapter 23

In the silence of the hospital room, Matilda’s eyes flickered open, greeted by a blur of dim light that gradually cleared into a coherent world.

She took in her surroundings until the door creaked open, and a figure walked in, snapping her back to reality.

Yvan stood at the threshold, his expression a twisted tapestry of emotions that flickered across his face before dying in the depths of his dark eyes.

Matilda stared numbly at him, wordless. She had imagined countless scenarios for a reunion with an old flame–the world was cruelly small, and those you’ve loved deeply had a way of resurfacing. But never had she envisioned Yvan standing before her like this.

In a manner so brutally final, he thrust her back into the abyss of despair.

Sensing her silence meant she had no desire to speak, Yvan cleared his throat awkwardly from the doorway. “You’re awake.”

Matilda gave him a frosty glance, remaining silent.

He stepped forward, lifting her chin with a firm grip, and as he met her sc

unexpected pang of pain twisted in his chest.

the silent game with me?” he sneered, a cold smile playing on his lips. “Matida, I should’ve ended you five years ago. The fact that you’re still breathing is a stroke of

your part.”

and clear, in response to his words. “Oh, how generous of you to spare this wretched life

feel wronged?” Yvan’s mocking tone matched hers.

by the lethal sharpness in

Yvan felt a crushing inability

radiant, a fleeting beauty that seemed to strip color from the world. “Yan shouldn’t I be thanking you? You shattered my life five years ago, and now you’re after my life

you trying to

death had nothing to do with me? Her laughter was maniacal a sign of someone with nothing left to lose, backed into a comer. She shouted at him. “Ivan, just

Yvan like a physical blow as his grip loosened,

exhausted her “Yvan i don’t hate you anymore. I think you’re pitiful enough that it doesn’t matter whether I hate you

filled her eyes for him was replaced by a void, consumed by the hatred of

man with the kind of looks that could drive

herself towards his flame only

years in jail. Now that I’m out,