Later, in the emergency room, the doctor informed me that I needed to be admitted to protect the baby.
I reflexively dialed Yzail’s number, only to realize how ingrained that habit was. Luckily, he didn’t pick up.
After ten years of love, we had finally become strangers.
“No need to save it,” I told the doctor. “I want the surgery today.”
When I awoke after the procedure, my uncle had already arranged a plane ticket for me. The flight was on the day of Yzail’s wedding.
Seven days left—just enough time to leave everything behind. Yzail was right about one thing: life moves forward. From this moment on, I would cut myself off from all the happiness and pain of the past.
Chapter 4
Three days went by without a word from Yzail. He was out of touch, completely silent. Then, unexpectedly, a notification popped up on my phone. Yzail, the man who never posted on social media and scoffed at superstitions, had shared a picture of the goddess of mercy, captioning it: Praying for peace and safety!