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Chapter_201
Whitney stood in silence, the weight of Ludwik’s choices pressing against her chest like an immovable stone. His words, his actions—each one had sliced deeper than the last. What once had been love now felt like a cruel parody, twisted and sharp, leaving only scars in its wake. It was almost impossible to believe she had once loved him so completely. That version of him, of them, felt like a memory from another life—faded and unreachable.
Outside her door, she could hear Ludwik’s voice as he tended to Elaine. The sound pierced her like a needle—quiet but unmistakably real. He was still there, just beyond reach, and yet already gone. She had become a ghost in his life, someone pushed to the edges, discarded when no longer needed. And he, without pause, had moved on.
Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a pale, icy glow across the room. It was the same moon that had lit her path the night she’d defied Natalie. She remembered sneaking away beneath its silver light, clutching to a fragile belief that everything could still be saved—that love, somehow, would find a way. But now, that belief felt like a cruel illusion, shattered by jealousy, indifference, and the reality that Ludwik had hardened his heart to her.
Her pain wasn’t just emotional. It throbbed through her entire being—body, mind, and soul. Every part of her felt bruised. She wasn’t Ludwik’s choice anymore. Elaine had taken that place, effortlessly, it seemed. The truth struck her like a thunderclap: she had been little more than a placeholder in his life. And now, she was being replaced.
Whitney slid down against the door, her knees folding beneath her, her back pressing against the cold wood. The chill from the floor crept up her spine, but it was nothing compared to the cold that had taken root inside her. The moon outside, once a symbol of connection and rebellion, now seemed distant—aloof and merciless. She had once clung to it for hope. Now, it felt like a silent observer of her defeat.
“Should I keep holding on?”
The question repeated in her mind like a haunting refrain. What was left to fight for when he had already chosen another? His wedding was set. The reality was clear. Painfully, brutally clear.
She had fought. Hard. She had believed in something worth saving. But now, all of it felt like chasing shadows—an endless struggle against a tide that had already pulled him away. Her tears came slowly at first, then in steady waves. Each drop fell without resistance, a silent confession of everything she had kept buried.
She was broken. Not just bruised—but broken.
Still, even in that hopelessness, a quiet understanding flickered. She couldn’t chase a love that had turned its back on her. She couldn’t stay in a fight that had already ended.
Her gaze drifted once more to the moon—cold, distant, untouched by human sorrow. And then, with a trembling breath, she whispered the words that sealed her heartbreak:
“It’s over.”
The battle was done. The wounds would take time to heal, but for now, all she could do was gather the pieces—and try to begin again.
