Chapter 21 – Shattered Reflections
The air between them felt heavier than ever. Elira sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers trembling as she stared at the door Zayn had just walked out of. The silence that followed wasn't peaceful it was sharp, cold, and loud in its own way.
Her chest ached with unspoken questions.
How long had she been pretending?
She stood up slowly and walked over to the vanity, gazing into the mirror. The woman staring back looked nothing like the girl she used to be. Her eyes were weary, her smile forgotten, and her strength... fading.
But not today.
Today, something inside her clicked.
She wasn't going to cry for Zayn anymore.
Just as she reached for the letters tucked under her drawer the ones her grandmother had left her a knock echoed at the door. Soft. Hesitant.
"Come in," she said calmly.
It was Lyra.
"Elira… are you okay?" her voice was quiet, worried.
Elira looked at her, and for the first time in weeks, smiled weakly. "No. But I will be."
Lyra stepped in, closing the door behind her. "You don't have to do this alone."
"I know," Elira whispered. "But I need to understand what I want. Not what Zayn wants. Not what anyone expects. Just me."
Meanwhile, across the city, Zayn slammed his car door shut. He couldn't stay in that house anymore. Not with the guilt burning a hole in his chest. He hadn't meant for things to spiral like this. He hadn't meant to hurt her.
But he had.
He drove for hours without direction, finally pulling up at a quiet spot by the ocean. The waves crashed like the storm inside him.
How did he let this happen?
Why did Elira's pain hurt him more than he thought possible?
Damn it, he muttered, gripping the steering wheel. Why can't I stop thinking about her?
Back at the house, Elira opened her grandmother's letters. The familiar handwriting was enough to break her, but she held herself together. Every word reminded her of who she used to be. Brave. Kind. Hopeful.
That version of her was still alive. Just buried.
And tonight, she was digging her way out.
No more silence. No more waiting for Zayn to realize her worth.
She'd fight for herself.
Zayn didn't return that night. Elira sat alone at the dinner table, staring at the untouched plate across from her. She had spent hours cooking maybe not for him, maybe just for the silence she dreaded.
The clock ticked louder than usual. The candles burned low. And still, no sign of him.
The next morning, Zayn walked in, his jaw tight, the air around him sharp with unspoken anger or was it guilt? Elira stood by the kitchen counter, a mug in hand, pretending not to notice the way her hands trembled.
"Where were you?" she asked, trying not to sound accusing.
"Out," he replied curtly.
She scoffed. "Out? That's your answer?"
Zayn looked at her then, eyes shadowed. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
He didn't. Instead, he walked past her.
Something inside her cracked.
"I'm not your enemy, Zayn," she said, voice low. "You married me. Whether you like it or not, we're in this together."
He paused at the stairs. "No. You were forced into this. And I was manipulated."
Her breath caught.
"So now I'm the chain around your neck?" she asked. "The mistake you're trying to escape?"
Zayn turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Maybe."
The word cut deeper than she expected. She didn't speak again. She didn't cry. She simply walked past him, climbed the stairs, and closed the bedroom door quietly behind her.
Later that evening, Elira stood at the balcony, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn't know if she was cold or just hollow.
Lyra called.
"Elira?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
She hesitated. "I'm surviving."
"You deserve more than survival," Lyra said gently.
Elira closed her eyes. "Maybe love was never meant for people like me."
"Don't say that. You just… haven't been loved the right way yet."
And as she ended the call, a tear slipped down Elira's cheek. Silent. Heavy. Real.
Inside the house, Zayn sat in the dark, holding an old photo in his hands a memory he never talked about. One that still haunted him.
He didn't hate her.
But he hated that she reminded him of everything he never got to heal.