Blame herself

Blame herself
Marco

“Don’t come any closer!” Ismael screamed at the top of his lungs, slashing the air with a wild swing of his arm, the glinting knife still tight in his grasp. Madness twisted his features, a volatile mix of rage, frustration, and desperation. His eyes burned with a fire so intense it seemed like he’d been swallowed whole by hatred. His every breath was ragged, trembling with fury.

Sandro’s men moved swiftly, one to the left, one to the right, ready to strike at the first opportunity. Sandro himself had flanked around, quietly positioning himself behind the vehicle, his gun trained on Ismael with a calm but deadly focus. His presence was sharp, calculated, every step matching the thunderous beat of my heart.

The man standing near me didn’t have a chance. The police were quick to apprehend him, slamming him to the ground. He struggled for only a moment before realizing there was no escape.

“Ismael,” Sandro’s voice was low, cold. Each word came out like ice. “Drop the knife. This is over. Surrender now.”

Ismael chuckled, a twisted, eerie sound that sent a chill down my spine. That smile... it was the smile of someone who had nothing left to lose.

“If you give me Ashlyn,” he spat, eyes locked on her, on the woman in my arms, “I’ll walk away like nothing happened. That’s all I want. Just hand her over, and nobody else gets hurt. But if you don’t… someone dies today.”

My arms tightened instinctively around Ashlyn, holding her unconscious body closer to me as if I could shield her from the storm. Even in her stillness, it felt like her soul was speaking to mine.

Don’t let go, Marco. Fight. For me. For us.

“You’re not taking her,” I said, voice firm despite the terror pounding in my chest. I stood my ground, letting him see the resolve in my eyes. “You’ve already lost, Ismael. It’s over.”

Slowly, I began to step back, shielding Ashlyn with my own body. I couldn't afford a single mistake, not when her life was on the line. One wrong move and we could both be lost.

I glanced at Ashley, her face pale, her lips slightly parted in shock. Her eyes shimmered with fear, confusion, and disbelief. She looked like she was about to explode with emotion, but didn’t know where to begin. At her side, a man moved toward her, likely trying to hold her back.

“This is your fault!” Ashley shrieked, her voice piercing. She stared at the woman in my arms with venom in her eyes. “You brought the police! You don’t really love Marco, you just want to destroy him!”

She stepped forward, fists clenched. “You’re nothing but a hypocrite hiding behind your angelic mask!”

She blamed her twin for everything, refusing to see how her selfishness had led them all to this breaking point.

“You’re the one who dragged us all into this chaos, Ashley,” I snapped. “Don’t blame your sister for your own twisted decisions.”

“Marco, I only loved you,” she cried, voice cracking into madness. “I know I could make you happy if you’d just let me. Don’t you see that? Think of Asher! Do you want him to grow up without a mother just because you’re too stubborn to choose me?”

I looked at her, disgusted and weary. “Asher already has a mother. The woman I’m holding now, Ashlyn. My wife.”

“No!” she screamed, her eyes wild with delusion. “I’m his mother! I’m your wife! You belong to me!”

I could only shake my head. There was nothing left to say. She had lost her grip on reality.

Meanwhile, Ismael hadn’t moved, his focus still glued to us. The knife trembled in his hand. His body was twitching, vibrating with rage and defeat.

“I’m not leaving without her…” he whispered hoarsely, voice laced with grief and bitterness. “I gave you everything, Ashley. Everything! And what did I get in return? You couldn’t even convince him to choose you! You’ll never compare to Ashlyn, never!”

Then he lunged.

It was sudden. Violent. A crazed charge with no concern for consequences. He dashed toward us, blade raised, screaming.

“ISMAEL, STOP!!” Ashley cried out.

There was no time to think.

I couldn’t run.

I couldn’t risk Ashlyn.

If someone had to take the blow, it would be me.

I turned, wrapping Ashlyn in my embrace, using my body as her shield. I shut my eyes, bracing for the pain. The steel. The blood. The end.

But instead of agony, there was a gunshot.

A single, deafening shot.

Then… heat.

And a cry of pain.

Something, someone, had fallen against my back.

When I turned, my breath caught in my throat.

It was Ashley.

She was slumped against me, her lips trembling in a fragile smile even as her body shook.

“I... I l-love you, M-Marco…” she whispered weakly before collapsing, slowly sliding to the ground like a fading dream.

“Ashley…” I murmured, my voice breaking. I didn’t know whether it was fear, sorrow, or anger that was taking over. “What… what did you do?”

Everything was spinning. My mind couldn’t keep up. Should I hate her? Thank her? Grieve her?

Ismael had collapsed, a crimson bloom spreading across his chest. He was fading, his breath shallow, but he still managed to grin.

“B-better this… than watching her happy with someone else…” he whispered, his voice like a dying wind, before finally going still.

The police moved in, surrounding both bodies. Sandro dropped to his knees beside Ashley, checking her pulse quickly.

“She’s still alive!” he shouted. “Get her to the hospital, now!”

Moments later, the ambulance arrived. Ashley was carefully placed on a stretcher, followed by Ismael, now handcuffed, barely conscious, bloodied, and broken.

I remained still, clutching Ashlyn protectively as we were ushered into a separate ambulance.

No one spoke on the ride.

Every second was heavy.

Every heartbeat was a prayer.

Please… let this be the end.

Let no one else be hurt.

I stared at Ashlyn’s face, still unconscious, still unaware of the madness that had just unfolded. I prayed she wouldn’t have to wake up to another nightmare.

I wanted our life back, the one we had before all this. Before the accident. Before the betrayal. Before all the pain.

We could never bring back the past, never undo the death of her parents, never restore the bond between the twins.

But maybe, just maybe... one day, she could forgive herself.

Because when she finds out the truth, I know exactly who she’ll blame.

Herself.