Chapter 212 212

Chapter 212 212
"Iza, my God, what’s wrong with you?" the redhead was genuinely scared now and rushed to the kitchen to drip some sedative into a glass. "Here, drink this, sweetheart. What happened to you? I’ll delete all those apps of yours!"
"No!" I hiccupped through hysteria and lunged for my phone. "That’s it! The phone!"
My hands shaking, I grabbed it and frantically opened the app. I burst into fresh tears when I saw the payment for the next month had gone through and everything was unlocked. In desperation, I subscribed to every possible promo and “super offer” available—but… nothing.
Another wave of hysterics hit me, and Anton held me, kissing the top of my head, rocking me like I’d lost my mind.
"That’s enough, baby. It was just a dream. Calm down."
After letting all the emotions pour out, the medicine finally began to work. I slowly came back to myself, realizing there was nothing I could do.
No. Thing.
"What are you doing here?" I asked once I’d calmed down a little.
"I finally came over to you yesterday. You went out somewhere, and I… I guess I fell asleep before you got back."
Yeah. Went out.
To another world.
I waited.
I waited for some new promo offer to pop up on my phone, for me to be pulled back to my family and the man I loved.
But days passed… and nothing happened.
I sank into total apathy and depression. Nothing made me happy. I wanted nothing. My soul had been ripped out of me alive. Weeks went by, and even I started to think I’d lost my mind—that everything that happened had been a dream.
Anton and I broke up again—this time in this world too. To be honest, he seemed sad himself, but blamed it on bad weather and deep autumn depression. Still, as before, we stayed good friends, and that’s why I love Anton. He tried to help me through my state, but… he should’ve helped himself—because I could see him starting to wither too.
I went to work on autopilot—money was still necessary—but I didn’t talk to anyone. Everywhere, I saw falseness in people.
The only good thing was that I finally visited my parents. I’d missed them terribly. For once, I didn’t argue with them, and we spent wonderful time together.
After returning to this world, I realized I was no longer the same person I’d been before. From despair and unbearable longing, I got tattoos—covering my arms and lower abdomen. Of course, they were nothing like my beautiful carpites, but it made me feel a little closer to my dreams. Anton didn’t approve of the changes, but I didn’t care anymore.
Maybe I really had gone crazy. Maybe my sick imagination had invented a magical world, a beautiful prince—no, a king. Why not a stable boy, right? Isn’t that how fairy tales go?
Weeks dragged on. I cried constantly, lived in depression and… ate. Ate so much that one day the food suddenly demanded to come back out before I could even get up from the table. Thank God I was home.
"Serves you right, Iza!" I muttered to myself while cleaning up the mess. "Stop stuffing your face! Soon you won’t fit through the door!"
But from that day on, my appetite vanished completely—just remembering or seeing that food made me very nauseous. A sudden thought sent a chill down my spine, and I was already running to the nearest pharmacy.
A few simple steps later, the verdict was clear:
Two red lines.
Only…
Whose?
Anton’s?
Or my imaginary king’s?