After David fell asleep, Elara could no longer hold back the wave of emotions that shook her. Her sobs broke the silence of the bedroom—a sound of a shattered heart, wounded and feeling degraded.
David was awakened by the sound of crying. In the dim light, he saw Elara shaking, her body trembling with uncontrollable sorrow.
"Elara?" David moved closer, his voice still heavy with sleep.
Elara pulled away. "Don't touch me," she whispered hoarsely. She looked at David, her eyes red and full of pain. "How could you do that to me? As if I have no right at all over my own body, David? I'm not a doll. I'm not an object you can claim as you please!"
Her crying erupted again, deeper, more painful. Every breath felt like tearing apart the remaining shreds of respect she had for herself.
David fell silent for a moment, his expression clouded. He rose from the bed, standing in front of Elara, who was still shaking. In his eyes burned that familiar, unextinguishable flame of possession.
"I know, Elara. I know that in Paris, your feelings blossomed again with Kael." David's voice was flat but held a tremor of restrained emotion. "But I didn't ask Kael for that. I only asked him to look after you and Alisha. Because if I had sent our assistant to accompany you, you would have objected, right?"
Elara was stunned, her crying briefly halted. So, that was the reason? David deliberately sent Kael, the man he knew still had an emotional bond with her?
"I don't care, Elara," David continued, his voice now firmer, darker. "Even if your feelings aren't whole for me right now... even if you might hate me at this moment, to me, you will forever be mine. I will reclaim your entire heart, just like before. You are my life and my death."
His words were like a mantra, a curse and a promise at once. He didn't ask for forgiveness. He didn't admit his mistakes. He only reaffirmed his claim, stronger than ever.
Without another word, David turned and left the room. The door closed with a soft sound that felt like a final blow.
Elara slumped onto the floor, her body weak. Her tears had dried, leaving only a quiet tremble and a profound emptiness. Her eyes fell on her phone, lying on the bed.
At a time like this, I need Kael. The thought emerged, strong and honest. Kael, who always made her feel safe when the world seemed against her. Kael, who listened, instead of claiming. Kael, who gave her space, not a cage.
Her hand almost reached for the phone. Her finger almost pressed his number.
But she stopped.
Didn't we promise to go our separate paths?
That promise felt like an invisible wall. Holding back her steps, imprisoning the voice of her heart. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tears flowed again, but this time, in a silence filled with resolve.
She would not contact Kael. Not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't want to pull him back into the chaos of her life. And also, because of a bitter admission: that amidst all this, she had to learn to stand on her own again. She had to reclaim her right over herself—without David, and without seeking refuge in Kael.
---
The next morning, the morning sun shone cruelly into Elara's room, as if indifferent to the heartbreak behind the window. Elara was already standing in front of the mirror, wearing a neat formal suit. Her face was pale, but her eyes—though still swollen—emitted a cold determination.
She touched her own reflection in the mirror.
I still have rights over myself.
That was what she would fight for today.
In the courtroom, the atmosphere was already tense. Robert was in his place, files neatly arranged. David sat next to the chair reserved for Elara, his face still carrying remnants of the anger and possessiveness from the previous night.
When Elara entered, her steps were steady. She did not look at David. She simply sat down, took a deep breath, and nodded at Robert.
The judge entered the room.
"The hearing is now in session."
The legal battle was about to begin. But in Elara's heart, a greater battle was already underway: the battle to reclaim herself—her soul, her rights, her future—from all the claims, promises, and wounds that tried to bind her.