After the Last Tear: Rising from the Ashes of a Broken Marriage By Cassila K

Chapter 30

Others also stood up and left.

"Zoey, we're heading out now."

Someone muttered under their breath, but their words reached my ears clearly.

"Does she even have the nerve to go against Sara? Doesn't she know she's the one who stole someone else's man?"

"Jealous, obviously! Sara's beautiful and accomplished. What does she have?"

"She makes trouble for Sara, and in the end, it's her husband who goes to comfort Sara. How stupid!"

Their mocking laughter faded into the distance, leaving the large private room eerily quiet.

Alone, I let out a faint, bitter chuckle and poured myself another glass of liquor. I drained it in one gulp.

To be honest, Sara wasn't entirely wrong-I hadn't been to those places.

But I knew she was lying.

Because of my mother.

I wasn't born without parents.

My mother was a doctor with Médecins Sans Frontières, stationed in war zones.

In those days, for a woman to work abroad while her husband stayed behind to raise their child was unthinkable.

Neighbors would sneer and taunt, saying:

"Your mother doesn't want you anymore!"

I clenched my fists and fought to defend myself, protecting what little pride I had, only to face even harsher ridicule.

Mother frequently sent letters stamped with exotic postmarks, recounting her work and life in detail, often accompanied by photographs.

Whenever my father read her letters to me, I would envision the heroic image of a brilliant doctor.

She once told me:

see it for yourself. Broaden your horizons, and only then will you know what you truly

was five, she died in the line of duty during the Kosovo

hospital managed to

risked her life to protect, there was a photograph

I didn't fully grasp what "killed in action" meant, but I did remember the gloating of

Women who love the limelight never meet a good

I lost my mother, but her words stayed with

yourself. Document and

then will you know what you truly

when I found that old

to hold some lingering warmth

relic, and my childhood

hands, I let my tears

miss you

The next morning.

pounding headache jolted me

my eyes, recognizing the familiar

recollection of how

to soothe my throat, I noticed Jackson sitting in the

you behave as the

I turned and walked toward

the desk was

voice hoarse as

Jackson smirked coldly.

it

My breath caught.

"What did you say?"

disdainful smile tugging

you tell her to

roar

my mother's

glass slipped from my hand and shattered.

collar, shouting hysterically:

my camera?! How