No Second Chances Ex-husband novel Chapter 48

48 /50

LAUREN'S POV

I watched them walk away, their silhouettes shrinking against the horizon with every step. My body stayed frozen in place, my knees digging painfully into the sand, but I barely felt it. The gritty particles clung to my skin, sticking to the dampness of my legs, and my hands were buried deep in the coarse grains as if holding onto the earth itself might keep me from collapsing completely. The tears that streamed down my face dripped steadily onto the ground, mixing with the sand until tiny dark patches bloomed beneath me.

“Please… don’t go,” I called out one more time, my voice breaking into a pitiful rasp. “Elena… she needs this.” My words echoed weakly in the stillness, drifting after them like fragile smoke. I kept staring at Ethan’s back, hoping desperately that he would pause, glance over his shoulder, maybe let even a flicker of decency soften him. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t turn around. His stride didn’t falter, not even for a moment.

A deep, hollow ache swelled in my chest. Why must he do this? Out of every possible way he could punish me, every word he could throw, every cold gesture he could make — why did it have to be this? Why must it involve our daughter? Why must it twist the knife into the one wound that would never heal?

Did he even care about her anymore? Did he ever?

I bit down hard on my lip to keep the sob that was clawing its way up my throat from spilling out completely. My vision blurred with fresh tears as the reality of his cruelty settled over me like a suffocating blanket.

A gentle touch landed on my shoulder. I flinched at first, my body tense, but then I recognized the familiar voice that followed.

“It’s okay… stand up,” Tessa whispered. Her hand pressed lightly, as if she could guide me back to my feet by sheer will.

“No,” I choked out, my words strangled with grief. “Don’t tell me that.” The tears kept falling, relentless. I lifted my head just enough to look at her, my cheeks wet and raw.

“Lauren…” she began, but I cut her off, shaking my head.

“How can it be okay? Didn’t you just hear what he said? Didn’t you hear?” My voice cracked, sharp with desperation. “Elena needs to be buried — buried properly and now… now where are we supposed to get the rest of the money from?” The edges of my words trembled, like they might fall apart if I pushed them out any faster.

“You can’t stay like this,” Tessa murmured, her eyes darting toward the lingering guests. “Everyone is looking at you.”

“I don’t care,” I shot back, my tone raw, almost feral. The thought of those eyes on me, of their whispers and judgments, meant nothing compared to the storm tearing me apart inside. I reached up and gripped the fabric of her dress tightly, holding onto it like it was the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out from under me.

“Elena… my little girl…” My voice wavered as I spoke her name. “She was killed unjustly. No one knows what really happened to her. And now I can’t even give her a proper burial? I can’t even… I can’t even do that for her. What kind of mother am I?” The question shattered inside me, leaving nothing but a hollow echo.

Tessa’s lips parted, ready to say something maybe to comfort me, maybe to argue but in that moment, something clicked in my mind. A single, fragile thread of hope.

Every person here had come to mourn Elena. Yes, most of them were friends or acquaintances of Ethan, but they had still shown up. They had taken the time to be here. That meant something… didn’t it? They had hearts — surely more compassionate than his. And if they could feel even a fraction of what I felt, maybe… just maybe… they would help.

If I could speak to them, if I could show them how desperate I was, perhaps they would be willing to contribute. Even if I couldn’t raise the entire amount, maybe we could gather enough to make up a portion of it.