Chapter 8 up
“I really am leaving.”
Nyla’s voice was quiet but firm as she stood in front of the door, a small suitcase resting beside her feet.
Clark turned toward her. For the first time since the argument, his chest tightened with something he didn’t fully understand. Nyla stood there without tears, without anger—and that was exactly what unsettled him.
“You don’t have to rush,” he said at last. “You can… think about it again.”
Nyla gave a faint smile. One that never reached her eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, Clark. I’m only brave enough to do it now.”
Clark fell silent. His gaze dropped to the suitcase—small, simple. Far too small for three years of marriage.
“That’s all you’re taking?” he asked.
“Only what matters,” Nyla replied. “The rest… maybe it was never truly mine to begin with.”
The words hit Clark harder than he expected. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. There were so many things he wanted to say, yet none of them felt right.
From the living room, Selena watched them. She leaned against the wall, one hand resting on her stomach, her face still pale—but her eyes were shining.
It worked, she thought.
Nyla took a step toward the door. Her hand reached for the handle—then stopped midair.
Clark felt a powerful urge to stop her.
“Nyla…” he called.
She turned.
For a brief moment, Clark saw something he had almost forgotten—the woman who used to wait for him to come home, who swallowed her own pain just to keep the house intact.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly.
Nyla nodded slowly. “I know.”
That answer made the tightness in his chest worse.
“Then… why do you have to leave?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Because good intentions are not always enough,” Nyla replied. “And I’m tired of being wounded by what you call unintentional.”
Clark clenched his fists. Guilt began to creep in, slipping through the cracks of his certainty.
“Selena is just… scared,” he said, trying to convince himself. “She’s pregnant.”
“I’m scared too,” Nyla answered softly. “But no one is protecting me.”
The words made Clark lower his head.
Behind them, Selena’s smile widened. She stepped closer, deliberately making her presence known.
“Clark,” she said gently, with careful hesitation. “I don’t want to force you to choose. If Nyla still wants to stay—”
“No,” Nyla cut in calmly. “I’ve already chosen.”
Selena pretended to look startled. “I’m truly sorry if all of this happened because of me.”
Nyla looked at her. The gaze was calm, sharp, and filled with meaning.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You got what you wanted.”
Selena lowered her head, hiding her satisfied smile.
Clark stepped forward without realizing it. “Nyla… maybe we can talk again later.”
Nyla shook her head. “If one day you want to talk, make sure it isn’t out of pity.”
The sentence pierced deeper than Clark expected.
He wanted to apologize. He wanted to ask her to stay. But his pride—and his fear—kept him rooted in place.
Nyla picked up her suitcase and opened the door.
Cold air rushed in from outside. She stepped out without looking back.
But right at the threshold, she stopped.
“Clark,” she said without turning around. “I loved you in my own way. But today I learned—love that makes me smaller is not love I should fight to keep.”
The door closed slowly.
And the sound that followed—the soft click of the lock—felt like the end of something that could never be repaired.
Clark stood frozen. His chest felt hollow. A strange, suffocating feeling settled in—regret.
“Clark…” Selena called softly, stepping closer and touching his arm. “I’m scared. I don’t want her to hate me.”
Clark looked at her. For the first time, Selena’s tears didn’t feel entirely sincere.
But he ignored that feeling.
“Calm down,” he said, more to himself than to her. “She’ll be fine.”
Outside the house, Nyla paused on the porch. She took a deep breath, steadying the tremor in her chest. Her feet moved down—one step, then another.
When she reached the gate, she turned once more.
In the second-floor window, Selena stood with her arms around her stomach—smiling in satisfaction, radiant with victory.