“I said I don’t want it!” she screamed. “I don’t want it! I don’t want it!”
Her chest heaved as she glared at him, tears burning her eyes.
“If it’s not one of a kind-if you’re not one of a kind-I don’t want it at all!”
For some reason, Tyrone felt oddly relieved seeing her finally lose control.
Aella had always been spoiled. When she didn’t get her way, she’d throw a fit.
He figured she was upset because the bracelet wasn’t “special enough.”
He slipped his hands around her waist and bent down to kiss her.
But the moment his lips brushed hers, Aella shoved him away.
She wasn’t like before-when even a small touch could melt her completely.
Tears blurred her vision. “No! I don’t want this! No!”
She pushed, hit, clawed at him, desperate and wild.
Tyrone’s patience frayed. He caught her wrists.
“Aella, that’s enough. You’re crossing a line.”
He could handle her moods-but not this hysteria.
Her voice cracked. “I’ve always been like this! You’re just realizing that now?”
Tyrone kept his calm. “All this over a bracelet?”
Aella’s rage exploded. She threw things across the room.
“You know exactly what you’ve done, Tyrone!”
Her sobs grew louder. “You don’t even want to be here, do you? Then go! Get out!”
Instead of leaving, Tyrone pulled her into his arms.
“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself.”
Then his phone buzzed. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
When he quickly reached to silence it, she went berserk.
“Answer it! Go on! Isn’t work more important? Answer it!”
Aella was at her breaking point.
When Tyrone refused, she lunged at the phone-then bit his hand, hard.
Pain shot through him, and he instinctively shoved her away.
She stumbled, fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
The room went dead quiet.
Tyrone’s chest rose and fell as he stared at her lying motionless, hair a tangled mess across her face.
Exhaustion sank into his bones. He was done.
His mind drifted back-
To when she was little: mischievous but sweet, always melting his heart.
To when she grew up: bright, stunning, innocent, turning heads wherever she went.
Then later: passionate, playful, so in love with him that she never hid it.
After marriage, she softened-learned to take care of him, became calm and gentle.
At every stage, she’d been radiant. Proud. Graceful.
But never like this-never a broken, raging mess.
“When you’ve calmed down,” he said quietly, “we’ll talk.”
Without looking back, he walked out.
Just then, Raine showed up.
Tyrone paused at the stairs. “Aella’s not in a good mood. I ordered her some food. Stay with her, make sure she eats, then take her out for some air.”
Before Raine could say anything, he was already gone.
It wasn’t the first time Aella had “fainted.”
Whenever she upset him, she’d act sick or fragile, and every time, he’d just ignore it.
But this time, she’d gone too far. He wanted her to cool off.
Raine went upstairs and froze the moment she stepped into the bedroom.
“Aella!” she screamed.
She rushed to her, lifting her up-only to realize Aella wasn’t pretending this time.
Panicking, she dialed Tyrone, but his line was busy.
With no other choice, she called 911.
When Aella opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital bed.
Raine sat nearby with their mother, Virginia Winter.
The moment Aella stirred, Virginia leaned forward anxiously.
“Aella, sweetheart, does it hurt?”
Aella shook her head weakly. “Why am I in the hospital?”
Raine gently helped her sit up. “You fainted at home.”
Slowly, her memories came flooding back-
The argument, the shouting, the fall.
Her voice trembled. “Did Tyrone… bring me here?”
Raine hesitated. “No. The ambulance did.”
“It was me who called 911. Tyrone, he-“
Raine blurted it out before realizing what she’d just said.
Aella shut her eyes. In that instant, whatever love she had left for him just… vanished.
Of course. His first love was back – and she’d brought a five-year-old son with her.
Why would Tyrone care whether Aella lived or died?
Her chest ached so sharply she pressed both hands against her heart. Curling up, she whispered weakly, “Virginia, Raine… my mom just had surgery. I don’t want her or my dad seeing me like this. Please, take me home.”
Virginia quickly turned to her daughter. “Go start the car.” Then she squeezed Aella’s hand gently. “The doctor said it’s just low blood sugar and stress. Resting at home will be better for you. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll handle it. I already called Tyrone and told him to come home right away.”
During the drive, Aella made them promise again – begged them – not to meddle in her marriage. However much it hurt, she needed to end this herself.
Back home, Virginia and Raine stayed by her side the whole day. They gave her medicine, made her porridge, and did everything they could to comfort her.
But Tyrone never showed.
Aella drifted in and out of sleep until evening. When she finally felt a bit stronger, she insisted they both go home and rest.
Alone at the sink, she looked at herself in the mirror.
Just a few days had turned her into a ghost – pale, hollow, exhausted.
She brushed her teeth and set the cup down.
Crash.
The cup shattered against the floor.
Aella slowly knelt and picked up a shard. The cup had once had a photo printed on it – her and Tyrone, smiling together. Now it was nothing but broken porcelain.
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