Nyra's Point Of View
The door clicked shut behind me.
And just like that, the world collapsed.
My legs gave out before I even reached the porch. One second, I was standing… tall, fierce, unbroken, or at least, that's what I'd let them believe. The next, my knees hit the cold marble of the driveway with a crack that echoed through my bones.
My palms slapped against the ground, my nails scraping against the rough surface, but I didn't feel the pain. Not when my chest was caving in, when my heart was being crushed like glass under a boot heel.
I didn't even realize I was crying at first.
It started as a tremor… a single, traitorous tear sliding down my cheek, hot and thick. Then another. And another. Until it wasn't just tears anymore. It was a sound, a raw, guttural noise tearing out of my throat, something between a scream and a sob.
My hands flew to my chest, my fingers clawing at the fabric of my dress like I could rip out the pain, like I could dig my own heart out and stop the agony.
"Damn you, Ethan."
The words tore out of me, broken and furious. My voice cracked, my body shaking so hard my teeth chattered. "Damn you… damn you…" I didn't even know what I was saying anymore. "Damn everything about you!"
I screamed it.
I screamed it, my throat burning, my vision blurring as the tears came faster, hotter. The night air was thick, humid, pressing down on me like a weight. I could taste salt on my lips, feel the slick wetness of my tears mixing with the blood from the cut on my forehead.
My breath came in ragged gasps, my lungs burning like I'd been running for miles. But I hadn't run. I'd stood there. I'd fought. I'd let them see me strong, unbreakable, when in reality, I was shattered.
I don't know how long I stayed like that… kneeling on the cold ground, my body wracked with sobs, my dress sticking to my skin with sweat and tears.
Time lost meaning.
The world narrowed to the sound of my own breathing, the way my chest heaved, the way my fingers dug into the marble like I could anchor myself to the earth and stop the freefall.
He never loved me.
The thought hit me like a bullet.
He never loved me.
And the worst part? I'd known. Somewhere deep down, in the quietest, darkest part of my soul, I'd known.
The late nights he'd come home smelling like cologne that wasn't his. The way his phone buzzed with messages he'd hide from me. The distance in his eyes when he thought I wasn't looking.
I'd seen it all. I'd felt it. But I'd buried it, locked it away, because loving Ethan had been easier than admitting the truth.
I was never enough.
And now? Now he'd said it out loud.
"I was only with you because my dad threatened to disown me."
The words played on repeat in my head, a broken record, a knife twisting deeper with every second.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to burn the whole world down. I wanted to march back in there and wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his face turned purple, until his eyes bulged, until he choked on the lies he'd fed me for years.
But I didn't.
Because if I went back in there, I'd break. And I'd be damned if I let them see me like that.
So instead, I screamed into the night.
I screamed until my voice was raw, until my throat burned, until the sound dissolved into broken, heaving sobs.
My body ached, my head throbbed from where I'd hit the floor, my knuckles stung from hitting Ethan, my chest burned like I'd swallowed fire.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the other kind. The kind that made me feel like I was drowning, like my ribs were caving in, like my soul was being flayed open.
I don't know when the tears stopped.
I don't know when the sobs slowed to shuddering breaths, when the screams dissolved into silence. All I know is that at some point, the storm inside me quieted, just enough for a single, brutal thought to cut through the haze.
I will not let them see me like this.
The realization hit me like a slap.
I pushed myself up.
My arms trembled, my legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to stand. My dress was ruined… torn at the hem, stained with blood and tears, the fabric clinging to my skin. My hair was a mess, wild and tangled, strands sticking to my damp cheeks.
I must've looked like a ghost. A wreck. The kind of woman who'd just had her world ripped out from under her.
Good.
Let the world see the damage he'd done.
I stumbled toward my car, my heels clicking unsteadily against the pavement. My purse was still clutched in my hand, the strap digging into my fingers.
I didn't remember grabbing it. I didn't remember anything after walking out of that house. It was like my body had moved on autopilot, like my soul had already left and all that was left was a hollow shell.
My car was parked under the dim glow of the streetlight, the paint gleaming dully in the orange hue. I fumbled with the keys, my fingers slipping twice before I finally got the door open.
The interior smelled like me… my perfume, the vanilla air freshener I'd hung last week, the faint scent of leather. It was familiar. Safe. A lie.
I didn't get in.
Instead, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window and breathed. In. Out. In. Out.
My reflection stared back at me… eyes red-rimmed and swollen, mascara smudged like war paint, lips parted as I dragged in air like it was the last thing keeping me alive.
I will not break.
The thought was a mantra, a prayer, a vow.
I straightened.
My hands still shook, but I clenched them into fists, my nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain grounded me. Good. Let it hurt. Let it remind me.
I was Nyra.
I was fire.
And Ethan?
Ethan was ash.
I slid into the driver's seat, the leather creaking under my weight. The engine roared to life with a turn of the key, the sound a growl in the quiet night. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, my knuckles white, my grip so tight it hurt.
One last look at the house.
The windows were dark now. No movement. No sign of life. Just the cold, empty facade of what was supposed to be our home.
I didn't let myself think. I didn't let myself feel. I shifted the car into drive.
And I left.
The car moved beneath me like a living thing, a beast carrying me away from the wreckage of my life. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care.
All I knew was that I had to get the fuck out of there before I did something stupid, before I turned the car around, stormed back into that house, and finished what I'd started.
Because I knew myself. I knew the crazy that lived inside me, the kind that woke up when I was hurt, the kind that didn't just want to burn bridges, it wanted to salt the earth so nothing could ever grow there again.
So I drove.
I don't know if it was minutes or hours. Time didn't mean anything anymore. The roads blurred together… streetlights bleeding into neon signs, the hum of the engine the only sound in my head, drowning out the screams still echoing in my skull.
My fingers were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
The city lights flickered past me like a strobe, each one a knife twisting in the wound Ethan had left.
I didn't realize I'd stopped until the car idled in front of a bar.
The neon sign above the door flickered… "The Velvet Halo"...the letters buzzing like a dying insect. The place was alive, even from the outside.
Music pulsed through the walls, a deep, thrumming bass that vibrated in my chest. Laughter spilled out every time the door opened, the sound grating against my raw nerves.
I should've kept driving. I should've gone anywhere else. But my body moved on its own, my feet carrying me toward the entrance before my brain could catch up.
The door swung open, and the noise hit me like a wall… music, voices, the clink of glasses, the scent of whiskey and sweat and something sweet underneath it all.
My heels clicked against the sticky floor as I stumbled inside, my vision swimming for a second as my eyes adjusted to the dim light.
The air was thick with smoke and the heat of too many bodies pressed together. I didn't know what I was looking for. I didn't know why I was here.
And then I saw her.
A familiar face in the crowd.
Tasha.
She was perched on a stool at the bar, her back to me, her dark curls bouncing as she laughed at something the bartender said. She was wearing that stupid sequined top I'd told her made her look like a disco ball, but on her, it worked. Because it always did. Tasha was the kind of woman who could make anything work.
I didn't even have time to think before she turned, like she'd felt me standing there, and her eyes locked onto mine.
"NYRA!"
Her voice cut through the music like a megaphone, sharp and bright and too loud. Heads turned. People stared. But I didn't care. I just stood there, frozen, as Tasha's face split into a grin so wide it looked painful.
She was off the stool in a second, her heels clicking against the floor as she ran toward me, her arms already open. I didn't have time to brace myself before she crashed into me, her arms wrapping around me so tight I could barely breathe.
"Girl!" she squealed, pulling back just enough to look at me, her hands gripping my shoulders. "I thought you said you weren't coming! That you and Ethan had the whole evening booked to yourselves!"
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Ethan.
His name was a knife in my ribs. The way she said it… like she didn't know, like the world hadn't just ended, made something inside me twist.
I opened my mouth, nothing came out.
Tasha's smile faltered. Her brows furrowed as she looked at me… really looked at me for the first time. Her gaze flicked over my face, taking in the smudged makeup, the blood crusted at my hairline, the way my dress was torn, the way my hands were shaking.
"Nyra?" Her voice dropped, the playfulness gone. "Babe, what the fuck happened to you?"
I swallowed.
My throat was raw, my voice barely more than a rasp.
"Change of plans,"