A Game of Ordeal

Chapter six

2:30 AM. The bright stars shimmered like crystals, dancing in the black sky. The moon was strong and beautiful, illuminating the empty streets of Denver. The houses were dark and silent, devoid of any sign of life. The only sound echoing through the space was the fierce, cold wind outside.
Only one small house glowed brightly, contrasting sharply with the darkness outside. Christina stood alone on the lit porch, wrapped in her favorite blanket. Bitter tears continued to fall on her swollen, reddened face. A thick cigarette rested between her slender fingers, its smoke intertwining with her caramel hair—she couldn't even remember how long she had been smoking. Nothing could soothe the fire burning within her soul—the memories had returned like a boomerang in her mind, unwilling to leave.
The divorce from Richard was an event that shook her life to its core. It was as if her entire world crumbled when she discovered his affair with a younger woman. That betrayal was painful in itself, but the realization that he had withdrawn all their savings left her completely ungrounded. She was utterly broken, falling into despair, teetering on the edge of giving in to the pain and hopelessness.
The only thing that kept her afloat was her love for her son, Antoine. He was her greatest support during those difficult moments, constantly reminding her that even in the darkest tunnel, there is light, but to reach it, you must keep moving forward, no matter how impossible it seems. Antoine never allowed his mother to give up, and his deep hatred for his father motivated him to seek justice. The boy carried within him a spirit of justice and resolve, which would not let him rest until he saw his mother happy again, free from the pain caused by his father's betrayal.

Alexander stepped into the kitchen to grab a leftover slice of pizza when he noticed that the porch was beautifully lit. The cigarette smoke, drifting through the air slowly but gracefully, didn't escape his notice. He sighed bitterly and decided to go outside.

Seeing Christina crying, broken and filled with worry, made his stomach tighten into a knot. The boy felt a pang of pain and couldn't bear to leave her alone in such a moment of weakness—everyone needed support.

"Hey," the blond softly muttered as he made himself comfortable on the stool next to her. Terry, who was lying under the small glass table, wagged his tail happily at the sight of him. Alexander simply reached out to gently stroke the dog's snout.

"Why are you crying?"

Christina swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the large lump in her throat that made it difficult to breathe. Wiping her bitter tears with her trembling hand, she began to speak:

"I never wanted my child to hate his own father."

The blond sighed bitterly, ready to listen to her every word. Gazing directly into her beautiful green eyes, full of hot tears, he silently began to listen.

"I know how much pain I caused him with the divorce, how much of a trauma it was for him... but what could I have done?"

A painful sigh escaped Alexander's lips, and he timidly replied:

"You did the right thing. Never blame yourself for the terrible actions of other people."

Christina turned her gaze toward him, while her tears continued to flow down her face like waterfalls. Alexander's gentle hand lightly wiped them away—he didn't want to see her like this, defeated and shattered by her memories.

"I hoped so much that one day he would forgive him. Not for me, but more for himself. Was I asking too much?"

"How do you forgive something like that, Chris?"

She choked as she inhaled a large cloud of tar—the cigarette tasted of bitter pain. The warm smoke danced uncertainly around the porch. Alexander lit a cigarette as well, showing his support—even though he wasn't fond of them, he swallowed the tar, allowing it to course through his body.