Chapter 15:
On screen, Zander Loftus, a charming and popular actor, engaged in a lively discussion about lost loves and current commitments.
“Let me ask you. If you were married and your supposed ‘one true love’ from the past came back into your life, what would you do? Would you go back to her or stay committed to your wife?” someone questioned, a hint of challenge in their tone.
Without missing a beat, one of them answered, “I’d stay with my wife, of course!”
“Choosing past love over your current love? That would be madness,” another added, laughter echoing among the group.
The questioner pivoted towards Zander with a curious tilt of his head. “Mr. Loftus, what about you?”
Zander, radiating an undeniable charisma, responded with a voice as smooth as silk, “I’m not one to dwell on the past.” He leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “Life is a journey forward. Clinging to an idealized version of a past love often blurs the lines between genuine affection and mere regret.”
The room fell silent for a moment, contemplating his words, before the discussion picked up again.
“That’s quite deep,” one remarked, nodding appreciatively.
“Speaking of which,” another chimed in, a wry smile playing on his lips, “I remember a friend who ditched his current girlfriend for his first love. Talk about a classic jerk move.”
“Don’t they say online that an ex’s tears can melt even the coldest heart? There’s a bit of truth in that,” someone else added, sparking laughter around.
As the laughter faded, the television show played on, weaving its drama into the evening.
Across the room, Kristian’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze intensifying as he watched Freya, who sat across from him, perfectly poised.
gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰0𝗺; 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝗌𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒𝑔𝓮𝓁
He had a nagging suspicion that she was using the show’s dialogue to subtly taunt him.
“Freya,” he started, his voice a mix of resignation and resolve.
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “Yes?”
Kristian took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I can agree to your terms for the divorce,” he admitted reluctantly. “But before we cut all ties, I need to look into her car accident.”
“That’s acceptable,” Freya responded evenly, her indifference clear. “If you need to discuss anything with Ashley during this period, please have Gerard handle it.”
Kristian wanted to protest, to insist on handling things his way, but the thought of his family’s deep affection for Freya held him back. With a resigned sigh, he conceded, “Fine.”
“Better get moving,” Freya suggested crisply. Truth be told, she wanted the divorce more than he did and had no interest in dealing with him.
“Pick me up at six.”
“Sure,” Kristian agreed, a hint of defeat in his voice.
With their arrangement settled, Freya grabbed the remote, shut off the screen, and disappeared up the stairs.
The chasm between them widened, the once close-knit hearts now adrift in a sea of growing distance.
As Freya’s door clicked shut, a wave of loss crashed over Kristian, leaving him with a poignant ache, as though he were watching a part of himself vanish into the ether.
.
.
.