1,2,3 And.. Love! (GXG)

Chapter 32

Zoya's POV

Heartbreak.. It's the sudden realization that the person you loved, trusted, and held dear is gone, leaving you behind in a world that suddenly feels cold and unfamiliar. Every memory, every shared moment, now feels bittersweet, tinged with the knowledge that it's all in the past. You find yourself replaying conversations, searching for signs you might have missed, grappling with the unfairness of it all.

Heartbreak is not just about sadness; it's about mourning the future you had envisioned together, the dreams that now feel shattered. It's about questioning your worth, wondering what you could have done differently, and grappling with the rawness of rejection. It's a rollercoaster of emotions—anger, sadness, longing—all intertwined with a profound sense of grief.

Heartbreak is the painful realization that despite having an abundance of love to give someone, they simply don't want it. It leaves you unable to offer that love to anyone else because it was meant for them alone. The weight of this unrequited love bears down on your soul, making you feel as though you may never love again.

The anguish is palpable—a sharp, piercing ache in your chest that accompanies every breath you take, a constant reminder of their absence from your life. Each memory of their presence, now lost, becomes a poignant reminder of what once was or what could have been. In my own experience, she existed in my life but never as wholly mine; nonetheless, I cherished every fragment of her that I held close to my heart, treasuring those fleeting moments with an intensity that amplified the pain of their absence.

But how do you cope with the presence of the absence of someone's love? No one ever taught me how to handle that.

Nothing can truly prepare you for the pain. You read about it in books and poems—the unbearable ache of loss, the sobs muffled by your pillow, the extra ten minutes you spend in the shower, clutching your heart and hoping the water might wash away the hurt. You feel the need to run, but you don't know where to go, so you take a late-night drive, speeding as fast as you can, trying to leave the pain behind. But it never really leaves you.

When you finally pull over, exhausted and tearful, you find that the ache hasn't faded. Instead, it has settled into a quiet, persistent presence. You sit there, staring into the night, realizing that no journey, no matter how long or fast, can outrun the reality of your grief.

Why couldn't I be enough? Why wasn't I her choice? What I wouldn't give for her to call me hers. What wouldn't I sacrifice to be with her?

"Zoya," Sebastian whispered softly as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, "You haven't moved from this bed in days."

"I don't have to work for another three days," I said, my voice barely audible.

"That doesn't mean you should stay in bed crying. This isn't going to fix anything between you two," he replied with sympathy in his voice.

"I don't want to fix anything between us. I've stepped out of the fantasy I was living in. I've come to terms with reality," I said, wiping away the tears that still escaped my eyes.

"If that's true, then why don't you get out of bed?" he asked.

"I feel like such an idiot. I feel like I made a fool of myself and lost all respect for myself," I said, my voice trembling as quiet sobs escaped despite my efforts to stifle them.

Don't talk like that. You did nothing wrong. You're in love, and love is a beautiful thing," Sebastian said, rubbing my back gently.

"I'll stay here, I'll grieve and cry, but I promise you, once that's over, Olivia will be no more to me," I added, feeling my heart tighten at the mention of her name.

He pulled the blanket up and joined me in bed, holding me close and stroking my hair softly. "I've got you," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

Olivia's POV

Life often presents you with crossroads, and making a decision is never easy. Do you follow what your heart tells you or what your brain advises? Life is cruel in its way of testing you, and you wish you could see how each choice will unfold, but you never can. You make a decision and face the consequences, dealing with the pain it brings.

Zoya felt like a guiding light in my darkest nights—a beacon I followed even as I stumbled over obstacles I knew were there. I pursued her, understanding that sooner or later, my legs would tire and I would have to turn around to confront my own darkness. Without her light, my life would feel even darker than I had ever remembered.

I never wished for my darkness to extinguish her light, but here we are—both broken, both in pain.

"You could at least pretend not to be so miserable," Elijah shouted as he stormed into the room, finding me lying in bed again.

"For God's sake, can you just stop screaming?" I said, covering my ears with the pillow. It had been like this ever since he found out—he refuses to let me be and spends every minute reminding me that I broke us, that I am horrible. I just wish I could have a few moments to cry over the pain of losing her.

"I'll scream all I want," Elijah shouted, grabbing the pillow and throwing it on the ground. "Get up!" He yanked me out of bed by my arm.

"Get off me," I said, pushing him away. I had stayed silent for so long because, truth be told, I was consumed by guilt—guilt for hurting him, for hurting Zoya. It felt like it was all my fault, but I couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you know how it feels to watch the woman I love crying over someone else?" Elijah grabbed my shoulders and shook me, his screams louder than ever.

"Elijah, enough! Just enough!" I screamed back, finally unleashing all the emotions I had been burying. "Yes, I messed up, but it's because I fell in love! I fell in love with Zoya. You can't accept that, and you insist on making both of us miserable. This is all your fault. I hate you!"

"Me? You hate me, Olivia? After everything I've done for you? For us?" Elijah roared, pacing the room with a frenetic energy.

I stood there, watching him, my anger bubbling as his breathing grew more ragged. He started tearing down and smashing the pictures that decorated our walls.

"All those memories? Are they worthless to you?" he yelled, hurling our wedding photo against the wall. The loud crash made me flinch, and he ripped off his tie, his agitation becoming more apparent.

"Elijah, you're scaring me," I said, taking a few steps back.

"I loved you! How could you betray me like this?" he lamented, collapsing into a chair and clutching his chest, pain etched across his face.

"Elijah," I said, cautiously approaching him as his complexion grew increasingly ashen.

Before I could reach him, he suddenly slumped to the floor.

I rushed to his side, panic surging through me. "Elijah! Elijah, are you okay?" I knelt beside him, my hands trembling as I checked for signs of consciousness.

His breaths were shallow and uneven. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me. "Stay with me, Elijah. Please, stay with me," I pleaded, my voice cracking.

I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed emergency services, my heart pounding as I relayed the situation. The minutes felt like hours, each second dragging painfully as I tried to keep him awake.

"Come on, Elijah, you need to hold on," I said, tears streaming down my face. I gently held his hand, trying to offer some comfort as I waited for help to arrive.

Finally, the sirens wailed in the distance, and paramedics burst into the room, quickly assessing Elijah and taking over. I stepped back, feeling a mix of relief and dread as they worked to stabilize him.

As they wheeled him away, I felt a hollow ache in my chest. I realized that, despite everything that had happened, I was terrified of losing him.