Chapter 293

I couldn’t bear to watch Nathan walk away again. Not now.

“Erm… Sorry, Martha?” I said, turning to face the woman beside me. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the stroller for two minutes? I just need to talk to Nathan.”

“Of course,” Martha said, oblivious to my strife. “It’s no problem at all.”

“Thank you.”

With a deep breath, I followed Nathan’s fading form across the park and toward an alleyway. “Nathan!” I called out, rushing after him as he quickly walked away, his figure growing smaller in the distance. “Nathan, wait!”

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back. Every step he took was another twist of the knife in my already aching heart.

The sun had long since passed its zenith, casting the cobblestone streets in a soft, orange light. But despite its warmth, it did absolutely nothing to ease the cold dread seeping through me. Up ahead, I saw Nathan round a corner to the Council building, and I followed him, beginning to catch up with his long strides.

“I’m sorry,” I shouted, desperation clear in my voice as it echoed through the quiet alleyway. “Nathan, please! Let’s just talk.”

He finally halted in his tracks, his back still to me. I closed the gap between us, catching my breath as I tried to find the right words to apologize, to make him understand.

“Nathan, I think I know how to stop the witch. I was thinking, and…”

Suddenly, before I could finish, he spun around to face me, his blue-green eyes blazing with a mixture of hurt and anger.

“Do you even hear yourself, Olivia?” His voice trembled with emotion. “You think stopping the witch is all it takes? It’s not about her. It’s about us. It’s about trust, about principle. About you making the decision to hand our daughter over in a heartbeat, when you refused to do the same with our son.”

My heart raced, my emotions raw and exposed. “I know, Nathan, I know. I’m going to fix this. We’ll get through this together.”

His jaw clenched, frustration evident. “If I were in your position, trapped in those mines, I would’ve rather died or torn my way out with my bare hands than hand Aurora over to that witch.”

His words, though hurtful, held a painful truth. But in my exhaustion and rising anger, I let my emotions take over, spitting out words I immediately came to regret.

“She isn’t even your real daughter, Nathan! You would never understand.”

The world seemed to freeze for a heartbeat. Nathan’s face went ashen, the pain evident in his eyes. I instantly regretted it, feeling like a fool for saying something so brash and emotional like that.

“I... Nathan, I didn’t mean…” I stammered, my voice faltering.

But it was too late. The damage was done. The chasm between us seemed insurmountable.

He glared at me, his expression icy and distant. “You really think that? After everything we’ve been through?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “No, Nathan, I was just... I’m just so tired. I didn’t mean that at all.”

But he didn’t seem to hear me. Without another word, he turned and stormed off.

“Nathan, wait!” I called after him, my voice rising in desperation. “Please, let me explain. I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t.” But he just kept walking, his form soon swallowed by the growing darkness.

The street around me was eerily quiet, as if even the wind had paused to acknowledge the gravity of what had just happened. My heart felt like a lump of lead in my chest. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

I inhaled shakily, feeling the weight of my own exhaustion and the sting of the evening’s bitter cold. This town, our life, it was spiraling out of control, and it felt like no matter how hard I tried, I just kept making things worse.

After a few minutes of just standing there, lost in my own thoughts, I made my way back to where I had been helping clear the debris earlier. I needed something, anything, to distract me from the turmoil inside.

As I picked up broken pieces of wood and discarded them, each movement felt robotic. The rhythmic repetition was oddly soothing. Every scrape, every thud of discarded debris, served as a reminder of my own shattered reality.

The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the streets. Rubble and debris from the recent ordeal littered the ground, and as I bent to pick up another piece of wood, I felt the weight of exhaustion pull at me, both physically and emotionally.

“Need some help?” A familiar voice said, and I looked up to see Angela, her kind eyes filled with concern. She had taken it upon herself to push the twins in their stroller, gently pushing it back and forth as she looked at me. I couldn’t help but smile at the scene; the twins would grow up to see her as their aunt, and I was glad for it.

“You really don't have to, Angela,” I replied, but she had already bent down to start collecting debris.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, glancing over at me. “I mean, with everything.”

I sighed, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Honestly?” I said, lowering my voice so only Angela could hear. “It’s been a nightmare. Nathan and I... we had a fight.”

Angela paused in her cleanup, her gaze piercing. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, I pulled Angela aside and quietly recounted everything. The harrowing experience in the mines, the witch’s sinister proposal, and the fallout with Nathan. Angela listened intently, her expression changing with each detail.

Once I’d finished, Angela remained silent for a long while, her eyes distant, as if lost in thought. Finally, she said, “Walk with me?”

I nodded, following her as she began pushing the stroller towards the nearby park. The twins cooed softly, fascinated by the birds flitting about.

“You know,” Angela began as we walked along the path, “maybe your decision in the mines was impulsive, but you had your reasons. I get that. Now, you just have to figure out a way to stop the witch. And remember, you have allies. Friends who care about you.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. “I appreciate that.”

Angela hesitated before adding, “But Nathan will come around. He’ll understand.”

I sighed, the memory of what I had said to Nathan in the alleyway still fresh in my mind. “There’s something else,” I finally admitted, feeling a warmth of embarrassment rise into my cheeks. “In the heat of the moment, I told him he wasn’t the twins’ real father. And that he couldn’t understand because of that.”

Angela stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in shock. “Olivia! That’s... that’s a low blow.”

“I know!” I exclaimed, frustration evident in my voice. “It just slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it.”

We continued walking, the gentle rustle of leaves and distant laughter of children providing a soft backdrop to our conversation.

Angela sighed. “Listen, Olivia, maybe you both should consider couple’s therapy. Your family dynamic is... unconventional. Talking to a professional might help.”

I blinked, the suggestion taking me by surprise. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. “You might be right. It’s just been so overwhelming lately.”

Angela stopped and turned to me, her expression sincere. “No one said it would be easy. But you’re not alone in this. Remember that.”

Tears welled in my eyes, and I pulled Angela into a hug. “Thank you.”

We stood like that for a moment, the comfort of a friend's embrace providing a brief respite from the world's chaos.

Suddenly, the twins started to fuss, their coos turning into restless whimpers.

“I should probably get them home,” I said, pulling away and wiping my eyes. “It’s naptime.”

Angela nodded. “Just remember what I said, okay?”

I smiled, grateful for her support. “I will.”