Chapter 11
Bianca’s POV
Once it was just the two of us again, I looked at Tristan, a question heavy in my mind.
“When did it start?” I asked him quietly. I was talking about what was going on inside his mind–when things had begun to slip.
This Tristan was so different from the man I’d known. Now, he was quick to anger and needed to control everything. I could see plain as day he was struggling with something, something more than what either of us could easily fix.
Tristan let out a sad, bitter laugh. “It started that second month after you left. When I tried every possible way but still couldn’t find you, that’s when it began. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t settle down. Every night, I’d find myself calling out your name, but all I got was silence.”
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Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Bianca’s POV
Once it was just the two of us again, I looked at Tristan, a question heavy in my mind.
“When did it start?” I asked him quietly. I was talking about what was going on inside. his mind–when things had begun to slip.
This Tristan was so different from the man I’d known. Now, he was quick to anger and needed to control everything. I could see plain as day he was struggling with something, something more than what either of us could easily fix.
Tristan let out a sad, bitter laugh. “It started that second month after you left. When I tried every possible way but still couldn’t find you, that’s when it began. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t settle down. Every night, I’d find myself calling out your name, but all I got was silence.”
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Chapter 11
He paused momentarily then continued,
“Mom couldn’t bear to see me like that, so she took me to a psychologist. And there they said I had bipolar disorder.”
Hearing that struck me deeply. Tristan had always been so steady, so unshakable. But here he was, broken in ways I hadn‘ t expected.
He pulled me close, his voice trembling.
“Bianca, I love you… I really do. You have to believe that.”
I didn’t want to hurt him, knowing he was struggling. But his words sat heavy on my heart, too much to ignore.
“Tristan,” I said softly, “sometimes I just don’t understand. You say you love me, and I used to believe it. You treated me so well…”
I took a deep breath and went on. “But love, real love, it’s meant to be between two people. There’s no room for a third. If you truly loved me, Sabrina wouldn’t have
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Chapter 11
been part of our story.”
A shadow of something–guilt, maybe- flashed across his face. I think he wanted to believe that his time with Sabrina was just a mistake, a moment of weakness that wouldn’t really matter in the end. He seemed to think that, as long as he was back on the “right path,” he could still be the husband everyone thought he was, that we could carry on as though nothing had happened.
But that wasn‘ t what I wanted. I wanted to
be his only one, not just the “most loved.”
Outside, rain started to fall softly. A sleek black Maybach pulled into the drive, and before I knew it, Russell was storming into the house, his face full of anger. He didn’t hesitate; he marched right up to Tristan, grabbed him by the collar, and threw a punch.
“You damn coward!” Russell spat, eyes blazing.
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I moved to stop him, but Russell‘ s rage wasn’t cooling off anytime soon.
“You walk around playing the doting husband, making people think you’d do anything for her,” he said, his voice thick with disgust. “And then what? You go and cheat on her? Your dirty secrets are now all over the internet and yet you’ve still got the nerve to ask her to come back to you?”
Tristan took the punch without defending himself.
Tristan just took the hit, not raising a hand to stop him. Finally, Russell led me toward the door.
As we reached the threshold, Tristan called out to me one last time. His eyes were filled with tears, and his smile was a sad one.
“I’m sorry, Bianca,” he said. “I hope… I hope you’ll find happiness from here on.”
I nodded slowly. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice steady. “I will.”
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Stepping outside, it felt like I was finally leaving all that old heartache and history. behind like it was dissolving in the rain. That was the last of it; the last of who I’d been. I was walking away as someone new, someone lighter.
In the car, Russell mentioned that he‘ d known where Tristan had taken me, but that Tristan had sent people to get in his
way.
I turned, concerned. “You alright?”
Russell just gave a small shake of his head. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he said, but he subtly revealed a scar on his
chin.
Such a schemer!
I gave a little smile. “Guess I owe you a meal for all that.”
Russell‘ s face lit up, his smile brighter than I’d seen in a while. “Sounds good. Be the first time you‘ ve ever treated me,‘ he chuckled.
