Breaking Free from the Ex-Husband

Chapter 122

It was like being suddenly pushed into a deep abyss in a dream, weightless, with an inexplicable suffocating feeling like a mountain pressing down on him, making it hard for him to breathe.

Heartbeat was racing like crazy.

But couldn’t catch my breath.

It felt like someone had a tight grip around my neck.

Heriberto was sweating profusely, eyes wide open, staring into the pitch–black darkness in front of him, feeling like he was on the brink of death.

He opened his mouth, raised his hand to touch his neck, and gasped heavily.

I don’t know how long it took, but eventually his breathing became

easier.

Touching the bedside lamp turned on, the light in front of his eyes and everything familiar, made him feel like he was back in the real world.

He sat up and glanced at the clock on the bedside table that Iris liked.

It was only a little past ten in the morning.

In other words, from taking the sleeping pills to falling asleep and then waking up, it was just less than half an hour.

How could this happen?

The sleeping pills tonight, surprisingly didn’t work.

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He looked down, saw the sweat–soaked clothes on his body, closed his eyes, tapped his forehead with his hand, then got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

He came out of the bathroom, grabbed a cigarette and a lighter, opened the curtains, and then went to the French window and lit a cigarette.

outside the window was the darkest, so

through the swirling blue–white smoke, at the thick

like there wasn’t

“Dear.“.

he seemed to hear

his head to

There was nothing behind.

Silence is terrifying.

the sudden speeding up of his

there’s nothing at

heard Iris

how is

has been missing for six

It’s been six months.

07:23

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looked for her for six months, but didn’t get

to sweetly

gave me

himself knew in his heart that he enjoyed every “darling” she called

never

really, really wants to hear

agreed to her, hugged her, kissed her, and whispered the most

Iris, where were you?

let

night, Heriberto couldn’t fall

with the ashtray on the low table next to him, the cigarette butts piled

through the French window and landed on his face in the early morning, he

are now?” he asked in a serious

months,

probably always where Iris was,