Chapter 118

Chapter 118
Chapter 118

David’s POV

The building looked exactly the same.

Same glass doors. Same polished marble floors in the lobby. Same quiet, expensive silence that used to make me feel like I belonged somewhere important.

But I didn’t belong anymore.

My things were outside.

Boxes. Bags. Suitcases. Everything I owned dumped on the sidewalk like garbage. Like something people didn’t want anymore. Like something that had already been thrown away.

I stopped walking.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at it, trying to understand what I was seeing. Trying to convince myself it wasn’t real. That maybe I was still drunk. That maybe this was just another nightmare I would wake up from.

But the boxes were still there. My name was written on them in black marker. My clothes were spilling out of one of the bags. A shirt I remembered buying with Lucia’s money was half hanging out like it was trying to escape.

“Sir, you can’t stand there.”

The voice snapped me out of it.

I turned slowly. The security guard was walking toward me. Young. New. Not the one who used to greet me with respect. Not the one who used to call me “Mr. Rodriguez” like it meant something.

This one looked at me like I was just another problem.

“I live here,” I said. My voice sounded strange, like it didn’t belong to me. “This is my apartment.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. The property was sold this morning. New owner took possession. You need to take your belongings and leave.”

Sold.

The word echoed in my head.

Of course it was sold. Of course she would sell it. Isabella. Lucia. Whoever she was now. She was cutting me out piece by piece. Removing every trace of me from her life like I had never existed.

“Who bought it?” I asked.

“I’m not allowed to say.”

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you’re not.”

I looked back at my things. My entire life reduced to a pile on the pavement. Everything I had left after losing the company, the money, the future. Everything I had left after losing her.

And even this wasn’t mine anymore.

“Where is she?” I asked, turning back to the guard. “Where did Isabella go?”

“I don’t know anyone by that name, sir.”

“Isabella Valen,” I said, louder this time. “She lived here. Where did she go?”

He hesitated for a second, then sighed. “I was told to inform you she returned to her mother’s residence. That’s all I know.”

Her mother’s residence.

Salome’s mansion.

My chest tightened. That was my chance. My only chance. If I could just talk to her, just explain, just make her understand…

I grabbed the nearest bag and one box, not even looking at what was inside. The rest didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Not the clothes, not the furniture, not anything.

Only her.

I got into a taxi and gave the driver the address. The ride felt endless. Every second stretched out, heavy and painful. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My mind kept replaying the cathedral. Her face. The way she looked at me like I was nothing.

Like I had already been erased.

When we reached the gates, I got out before the car fully stopped.

The mansion stood tall behind iron bars, untouched, untouchable. Like a different world. Like a place I no longer had the right to enter.

I pressed the intercom.

“State your business.”

“David Rodriguez,” I said quickly. “I need to see Isabella. Please. It’s important.”

Silence.

Then, “Miss Valen is not accepting visitors.”

“Please,” I said, pressing the button again. “Just tell her I’m here. Five minutes. That’s all I need. Please.”

“You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m not leaving until I see her.”

I started shouting.

“Isabella! Isabella, please! I know you can hear me! Just come down! Please!”

The sound of my own voice echoed off the gates. It sounded desperate. Broken. Not like the man I used to pretend to be.

Security guards appeared almost immediately. Two of them. Big. Silent. Already moving toward me.

“Sir, you need to leave.”

“I just want to talk to her!” I shouted. “Just five minutes!”

They didn’t care.

They grabbed my arms and started dragging me away.

I struggled. Fought. Tried to pull free.

“Isabella! Please! I love you! I’m sorry! Please just talk to me!”

And then I saw her.

In the window.

High above. Standing still. Watching.

For a second, everything stopped.

The guards. The shouting. The world.

It was just her and me.

Our eyes met.

And I saw it.

Nothing.

No anger. No sadness. No love. Nothing.

Just emptiness.

Like I didn’t matter anymore.

Like I was already gone.

“Isabella…” I whispered, my voice breaking.

She turned away.

Just like that.

Gone.

The guards dragged me the rest of the way and threw me outside the gate. I hit the ground hard, pain shooting through my body, but I barely felt it.

“Don’t come back,” one of them said. “Next time we call the police.”

I didn’t answer.

I just lay there for a moment, staring at the sky, trying to breathe, trying to understand how everything had fallen apart so completely.

Then I stood up.

There was nowhere left to go.

Except one place.

The apartment.

The one Lucia had bought years ago. The one she said would be our home. Our future. The place we were supposed to start our life together.

I had forgotten about it.

Just like I had forgotten about everything that mattered.

The ride there was long. Quiet. Empty.

When I got inside, the doorman recognized me.

“Mr. Rodriguez. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I said.

He handed me the keys.

The same keys she had given me with that bright smile. The same keys I had taken without thinking. Without understanding what they meant.

The elevator ride felt heavy. Like every floor was another step deeper into something I couldn’t escape.

When I opened the door, dust hit me first.

The air was stale. Still. Like nothing had moved in years.

The furniture was covered in white sheets. Everything frozen in time. Waiting for a life that never happened.

I walked slowly through the rooms.

The living room. The kitchen. The hallway.

Then the bedroom.

I stopped there.

The bed was still made, covered with a sheet like everything else. Untouched. Waiting.

I pulled the sheet off. Dust rose into the air.

It looked new.

Like it had been waiting for us.

On the nightstand, there was a picture frame.

Face down.

I picked it up slowly and turned it over.

It was us.

Lucia and me.

Smiling. Happy. Standing close together.

I remembered that day. The way she held my hand. The way she talked about our future like it was something real. Something certain.

She believed in me.

She really believed in me.

And I had destroyed that.

I sat on the bed, staring at the picture.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but the room didn’t answer.

I found a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. Probably something she bought for a celebration that never happened.

I opened it and drank straight from the bottle.

It burned.

Good.

It should hurt.

I sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, the picture still in my hand.

My phone started ringing.

Yvonne.

I ignored it.

It rang again.

And again.

I turned the phone off and threw it across the room.

I didn’t want to hear her voice. Didn’t want to remember anything else.

It was just me now.

Me and the silence.

Me and the past.

Me and everything I had destroyed.

I looked at Lucia’s face in the picture.

She looked so happy.

So sure of me.

So wrong.

“I’ll fix it,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ll make it right. I swear.”

But even as I said it, I knew.

Some things can’t be fixed.

Some things don’t come back.

Some people don’t forgive.

I drank until the bottle was empty.

The room started spinning. My thoughts got heavy. Slow.

The picture slipped from my hand and hit the floor. The glass cracked, splitting her face in two.

I stared at it.

Broken.

Just like everything else.

I closed my eyes.

And for the first time, I let myself feel it.

Not just the loss.

Not just the regret.

But the truth.

I had everything.

And I threw it away.

And now there was nothing left.

Just me.

Alone.

In a home that was never mine.

Holding on to a love I had already killed.

And no way to bring it back.