A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Through the crowd, Yvan could see Matilda occasionally chatting with Orson at her side. Although Orson’s expression was cool and detached, he was obviously well–bred. Standing tall at over six feet, he made a striking pair with Matilda from behind.

Yvan was seething with jealousy.

So, Matilda could be this tender and beautiful beside another man. She could let down all her guards and hostilities, a side she never once showed to him.

Yvan watched her like a thief in the night, as if trying to etch her silhouette into his memory. In the past, he would’ve marched right up to them, and even if he couldn’t break Matilda away from her companion, he’d at least throw a few biting remarks to ensure nobody had a good time.

But now, he was scared,

Scared after learning the hard truth from Logan,

He had dismissed her pain, tirelessly defending Ella, but reality had slapped him hard across the face, proving how horribly wrong he was.

How many times had he pushed them to the brink, watching idly, never once reaching out a hand to save them?

Yvan’s heart ached with a sharp, persistent pain.

Carl noticed Yvan’s distress and spoke up, “Mr. Boyd?”

Yvan snapped out of his daze, looking bewildered as if he’d just woken from a nightmare. “Carl,” he muttered, “who’s that with Matilda?”

Carl remained silent. Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Yvan insisted, “Find out! Even if she’s my ex–wife, she’s not up for grabs!”

That’s when Carl spoke up.

“Yvan, Ms. Thompson loved you. It was you who let her go.”

That single line struck him like lightning. Yvan stood frozen, his fingers trembling.

Even his loyal assistant couldn’t help but imply that he got what he deserved!

He remembered how Carl had once warned him, hoping Yvan wouldn’t come to regret his decisions.

And how had he responded? With a quick, sharp retort: he would never regret anything. Yvan Boyd didn’t do

regrets.

But now, how was he to admit that he was filled with remorse? If he could go back, he’d risk everything to rewind this tragedy. How could he express the pain that felt like it was killing him?

Reality and memory fractured, and all the warmth of the past now sliced through him like blades. Yes, she had loved him recklessly, but he had sent her to prison, to depression, to self–harm, to the point where she lost part of her finger!

With reddening eyes, Yvan slowly shut them.

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He wanted to walk away, to stop watching the tender scenes that no longer included him his woman and his son. His heart felt like it was being torn in two, an excruciating rip through his chest.

Carl glanced at his watch. “Mr. Boyd, it’s almost time for your dinner with Mr. Yeager. We should head up.”

11:52

Yvan was lost in his thoughts, unresponsive.

Carl repeated himself, and Yvan snapped back to reality, pulling his gaze from the distant scene. Without a word, he turned and walked away, each step feeling like he was treading on knife blades.

He was maddened with jealousy. Why, Matilda, why is there a new man at your side so quickly, while I’m cruelly trapped in memories, unable to clear or forget them?

If cruelty was the game, he wasn’t even a fraction as cruel as Matilda and Logan had been, exacting their vivid revenge in a self–destructive manner.

He had lost, thoroughly and utterly defeated.