In the stillness of dawn, in the dimness of the hospital lounge, Helen burned in silent torment. Anguish consumed her like a slow fire, devouring the last remnants of her will. Without the nurses noticing, she slipped out of her room and hurried down the hallways, driven by a suffocating desperation.
The cold rooftop air wrapped around her as she stepped outside. Her white dress, as light as a whisper, danced with the night breeze, swaying with every gust of wind. She walked barefoot to the edge of the ledge, feeling the icy touch of concrete beneath her bare feet. The city stretched out before her, a sea of flickering lights, indifferent to her pain. She looked down, where the avenues pulsed with the lives of thousands of strangers who would never know her story nor understand the storm ravaging her soul.
A sigh escaped her lips. In that moment, only the void seemed to offer her comfort.
—Mommy... —an imaginary voice enveloped her, and at hearing it, Helen closed her eyes.
Suddenly, she felt firm arms wrap around her desperately, pulling her back to the ground, holding her tightly against a trembling body.
—No, Helen, don't do this... —Alex's voice broke, desperate.
Helen looked at him, her face empty of emotion, reflecting the abyss within her.
—You already killed me.
Alex held her tighter, as if by doing so he could prevent her from slipping away from his arms. His chest shook with each sob, and tears fell uncontrollably as his broken voice pleaded:
—Forgive me... please, forgive me...
He wept like a child, torn apart by guilt, feeling his world collapse around him.
From the moment he was allowed to visit, Alex hadn't missed a single day at the hospital. It didn't matter how much rejection, contempt, or cold words Helen threw at him; he always came back. Every morning, without fail, he crossed the door of her room with the same trembling plea on his lips, with eyes full of guilt and desperation, clinging to the hope that one day Helen would let him stay.
—Helen, please... let me make it up to you. Let me do something for you.
But she only looked at him with the abyss in her eyes.
—Make it up to me? —she repeated, her bitter laugh echoing in the room—. Alex, you owe me three lives.
He swallowed hard, his chest tight, his face pale as death itself.
—Luke's life... the baby's life that died in that dark cell... and the Helen you killed with your own hands.
Each word was a dagger, each reproach an open wound. But he didn't move, didn't defend himself. He only bowed his head and murmured:
—I know... I know...
Day after day, the story repeated itself. Helen did not yield, did not lower her guard. Her eyes were void of love, full of pain that would not fade, and Alex accepted it as the punishment he deserved.
Yet, he still refused to leave.
After months of treatment, Helen was discharged. Her body had healed, but her soul remained shattered. The wound of loss, betrayal, and suffering stayed open, silently bleeding.
Alex was there the day she was released, just as he had been every day, enduring her hatred, her reproaches, her resentful looks. But this time, he didn't ask for permission.
—Let's go home —he said firmly, gently taking her arm.
Helen froze.
—No —she whispered, stepping back—. I don't want to go back to that house. Let me go, Alex.
He shook his head, determined.
—I can't.
—You have no right! —she screamed, her eyes blazing with fury—. You can't force me!
—I will if I have to.
Helen glared at him, but in the end, her heart pounding with rage, she let him lead her away.
When they arrived at the mansion, Helen's chest tightened. That house was a tomb of memories, of happiness turned to ashes.
—I don't want to go in —she said, her voice breaking.
Alex didn't respond. Instead, he took her hand and guided her inside.
The moment they crossed the threshold, she tore away from his grip and stepped back, trembling with rage.
—Why are you doing this to me? —she whispered, her voice shaking.
In a desperate act, Alex fell to his knees before her.
—Forgive me, Helen... once more, I beg you... —his voice was barely a choked murmur—. I don't know what else to do to show you how sorry I am.
She looked at him with contempt.
—Nothing you do will ever give back what you took from me.
He took a deep breath and, with his gaze fixed on the floor, said:
—I've put the house in your name. It's yours... completely yours. If you want, I'll give you all the company shares too.
Helen blinked and suddenly a bitter laugh escaped her lips.
—I don't want anything from you.
Alex, his eyes full of despair, gently took her hands, as if afraid he might break her. His voice trembled when he spoke, revealing how much he still felt for her.
—I love you, Helen... I still love you, and I'll do anything to show you how deeply sorry I am. I'm begging you to forgive me... I want you to know that for you, I would do everything.
Helen stared at him, her gaze cold and unyielding. The distance between them grew with those words, as if every declaration of love from him only reinforced the wall she had built between them.
—Do you really think that makes up for it? —her smile twisted cruelly—. If the house is mine... then get out, Alex. Leave!
—I'll do anything you ask. Except leave you.
He lifted his head, as if those words had struck him in the chest, and his face turned even paler, extinguishing whatever hope he had left.
—Helen, remember how much we loved each other...
—I hate you, Alex —she said, devastatingly cold—. You don't understand. There's no love left in me. You killed it long ago.
He swallowed hard, his chest tight, feeling the crushing weight of his guilt.
—I know what I did is unforgivable... but I only wish to take care of you.
—Do you really think you can make it up to me? —her smile twisted even more cruelly—. You don't understand, do you? It's not the money I want. It's not the house. It's none of that. —she screamed, pointing at the door—I don't even want to see you. Get out of my house!
Alex closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the pain. Then, slowly, he stood up.
—I will never leave you...
Helen made a silent vow. She would make Alex suffer, make him feel every tear, every humiliation, every piece of her soul he had destroyed. She would not rest until she saw him fall.
And Alex knew it.
Every time she looked at him, her silence was charged with hatred and resentment. He would never try to defend himself. He just looked at her, accepting deep inside that he deserved every bit of the hell she was about to unleash upon his life.
Without another word, he walked toward one of the rooms, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
And for the first time, Helen felt she had control.
Although deep down, she knew that not even all the gold in the world could buy her peace.