His Redeemed Love

Chapter 2:Crying and Crying

Kaya’s POV

I reached home and dashed towards my room, my safe haven. My room has always been my sanctuary, a place where I could escape and be myself. It was where I always came when the world outside became too much. As soon as I entered, I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, seeking comfort in its familiar softness.

My pillow had been my silent companion since I was young, absorbing my tears and muffling my cries when no one else could hear. As sobs racked my body, shaking me to the core, the sound of my anguish filled the room, the walls closing in around me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan and all the memories we had shared. My parents had been against our marriage from the start. I came from a wealthy family, while Tristan Montgomery was an orphan. His parents had died when he was just 11 years old, leaving him with a small condo and a modest restaurant—a far cry from the opulence I was accustomed to.

But that never mattered to me. He wasn’t wealthy like me, but he was well-off in his own right. More importantly, I loved him deeply, and I believed with all my heart that Tristan loved me too. So why did he do this to me? Why now?

“Why, Tristan?” I whispered into the pillow, my voice muffled by the fabric. “Why did you do this to me? If you didn’t want me, or weren’t ready for a married life, you could have spoken to me. We could have sorted things out.” My tears soaked through the pillow as I clutched it tighter, anger and grief warring within me. The questions kept swirling in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Suddenly, the door to my room creaked open, and there stood my best friend, Frey. The moment I saw her, I scrambled off the bed and threw myself into her arms, the tears flowing freely once again. Frey just held me, offering silent comfort, her presence a balm for my wounded heart.

What could anyone say in a situation like this? Words felt empty, inadequate.

After what felt like an eternity, Frey gently pulled away and guided me back to the bed. She poured me a glass of water, and I sipped it slowly, trying to calm my ragged breathing. The cool liquid was a small relief, but my throat still felt raw from crying. Frey took some wet wipes from the drawer and began wiping my face, carefully removing the smeared makeup and the remnants of my tears.

She wiped my tears again and again, but they kept coming, refusing to stop. Frey undid my hairstyle, letting my long hair fall freely down my back. I let her do whatever she wanted; I was too exhausted to care. All I wanted was to sink into my grief, to let it consume me. My world had shattered, and I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together. The person I loved with all my heart had just left me.

I glanced down at my wedding dress, still draped around me like a cruel reminder of what should have been. I ran my fingers over the delicate fabric, recalling the day Tristan and I had spent picking out the perfect design. We had been so happy then, so sure of our future together. A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips as the memory played in my mind.

The engagement ring on my finger caught the light, its elegant design a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart. I had always loved this ring—simple, beautiful, and not too flashy, just the way I liked my jewelry. But now, it felt cold and heavy, a burden rather than a promise. I traced the edges of the ring, my mind drifting back to the day Tristan proposed.

It was such a perfect day. We were on the beach, surrounded by friends, when he suddenly knelt in the water. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the gentle waves. He took my hand in his, and my heart pounded with the weight of the moment. The beach was quiet, the only sound the soft lapping of water against the shore.

“Kaya,” he had begun, his voice steady but full of emotion, “from the moment I met you, my life changed in ways I never imagined. You brought light into my world, a light I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst, and through it all, you’ve shown me what real love is.”

His words echoed in my mind as he had looked into my eyes, the reflection of the setting sun dancing in them. “I may not have much to offer in terms of wealth or status, but what I do have is a heart that belongs entirely to you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me.”

He had gently squeezed my hand, his voice softening. “Kaya, will you marry me? Will you let me be the one to stand by your side, through every high and low, for the rest of our lives?”

I had said yes without hesitation, my heart overflowing with joy. I never imagined our relationship would end like this. We had been high school sweethearts, together for six years. I had known him since we were in eighth grade. He had asked me out in high school, and from then on, it was us against the world.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped the ring off my finger and hurled it across the room. If he was going to leave me like this, then why did he propose? Why did he make me believe in a future that was never going to happen?

All the memories we had shared—the sweet and the bitter—played in my mind like a relentless movie, each scene more painful than the last. My sobs grew louder, more desperate, as Frey finally gave up trying to wipe away my tears. She simply caressed my back, her touch a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone.

“Kaya,” she said softly, her voice steady, “I know you’re heartbroken, hurt, and angry. I can’t fully understand what you’re going through, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you.”

Her words broke something inside me. I clung to her, my tears soaking her shoulder as I whispered all the hurt and anger that I couldn’t put into words. Frey had always been my rock, the one person who never judged me, who saw me for who I was and not the wealthy girl everyone else saw.

I had always been on my own. My mom and dad never really cared about me; their focus was always on their prestige, their standing in society. I had been a lonely kid, surrounded by friends who were only there for what they could gain from me. It was only Tristan and Frey who treated me genuinely, who loved me for me.

“Oh, Frey, what would I do without you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, but you have me,” she replied cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile tugged at my lips. I needed that. Slowly, I stood up, feeling the ache in my feet. I realized I was still wearing my heels, and I looked down at myself, seeing the mess I had become. Frey’s eyes met mine, and I could see the underlying mirth in her gaze.

“Oh, so you finally realized you’re still wearing heels and that you look like a mess? Gosh, how have I been living with this disaster?” she said with mock horror.

“Are you a parasite living in my body? How do you know what I’m thinking?” I countered, slipping back into our usual friendly banter.

We laughed together, the sound a small but welcome relief from the overwhelming sadness.

Frey helped me clean up the mess in my room, and as she was putting away my jewelry, she suddenly shrieked. I turned towards her and saw her standing there, dumbstruck, holding some medical documents.

I cursed under my breath. Why did she have to find those now?

“Kaya? What is this?” she asked, her voice trembling with shock.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” I said quietly.