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Till The HeartAches End

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Chapter Seventeen: The Past Never Stays Buried

(Ariadne Asselina Ildelfonso's POV)

Bella’s words wouldn’t leave my mind.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were secretly married."

I had scoffed at her. Denied it. Shut the conversation down before it could go any further.

But the truth was—

She wasn’t wrong.

Because Gavyn Del Herrera and I weren’t just old lovers.

We weren’t just business partners with a complicated past.

We were once husband and wife.

And no matter how much I tried to bury that part of my life, it had never really disappeared.

The memories crashed into me like a violent tide.

Seven years ago.

Paris.

The courthouse had been small, nothing extravagant. We didn’t need a grand ceremony or an audience.

We had only needed each other.

"Are you sure?" Gavyn had asked, standing across from me, his hands gripping mine tightly. "We can wait, kitten. We don’t have to rush this."

But I had smiled—genuine, certain. "I don’t want to wait."

And I hadn’t.

We had signed the papers, exchanged rings, and sealed it all with a kiss that had felt like forever.

I had been his.

He had been mine.

We were happy.

Until we weren’t.

The next memory surfaced, unbidden, unwanted.

This one was different.

Colder.

Darker.

Five years ago.

The night he chose to abandon me as if I were the worst person he knew.

It all began the night my cousin Marjorie his first love collapsed after eating the dessert I’d made. The dessert I’d so carefully prepared, hoping to mend fences and show her there was no bitterness between us. Instead, her pale face and trembling body shattered the fragile peace I had worked so hard to maintain.

Then came the accusations. Her tearful claim pierced through me like a dagger.

“She did this because she’s jealous,” Marjorie had sobbed, clutching at Gavyn’s arm. “She hates me.”

Gavyn’s anger was like a storm, cold and unrelenting. When he confronted me in the dining room, his voice thundered with rage.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You poisoned her because you couldn’t stand seeing me with her!”

I stared at him, stunned by the venom in his tone. “Gavyn, you know me. I would never—”

“Don’t lie to me, Ariadne!” he cut me off, his voice laced with disgust. “You’re such an evil woman! All this time, I thought your jealous tantrums were harmless, but I was wrong.”

I felt my heart crack open. “Gavyn, please—”

He took a step closer, his presence towering and suffocating. His eyes, once so warm, were filled with pure contempt. When his hand grabbed my arm, the pain of his grip was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

“Lewis,” he called sharply.

“Yes, sir?”

“Send the young madame to the Greenhouse.”

My knees buckled, and the world seemed to tilt beneath me. “No… no, you can’t.”

The Greenhouse. A place I had only heard whispers about—a remote island owned by his family, used to bury secrets they didn’t want the world to see.

“Gavyn, please!” I cried, dropping to my knees and clutching at his legs. “You can’t do this. I didn’t poison her. You have to believe me!”

He shook me off as if my touch repulsed him. His gaze was ice, cutting, and cold.

“Enough lies.”

The butler’s voice cut through my sobs. “Sir, the boat is ready.”

“Then take her away,” Gavyn said without hesitation.

“No! Gavyn, please! I didn’t—” My screams echoed into the vast, uncaring night.

The Greenhouse

The scent of salt and damp earth clung to the air as they dragged me toward the dock. Gas lamps cast faint, flickering light, and the sound of water lapping against wood filled the silence.

I fought against the ropes binding my wrists, my fingers raw from the effort. “Please,” I whispered, but the men pulling me forward didn’t care.

The boat waiting at the edge of the dock was dark and ominous, much like the figure standing beside it—Gavyn. He didn’t say a word, only turned away as they forced me onto the boat.

The journey to the Greenhouse was a blur of fear and despair. When we arrived, I was left in a small, crumbling cottage. Days passed in silence, each one gnawing at my spirit. I clung to the faint hope that Gavyn would realize his mistake and come for me.

But that hope was shattered the night I saw him.

A man stood outside the cottage, his face obscured by shadows, a blade gleaming in his hand.

I backed away, fear choking me. “Please,” I whispered. “Don’t—”

The man lunged, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain. But it didn’t come.

“Ariadne!”

The familiar voice sent a surge of relief through me. I opened my eyes to see Arzhael—my childhood friend, my twin sister Andromeda’s fiancé. He tackled the assassin, disarming him before the man fled into the forest.

Arzhael pulled me into his arms, his voice trembling. “You’re safe now.”

“What are you doing here?” I sobbed.

His expression darkened. “Andromeda… she’s dead. I looked for you, but one of your servants told me you were here. They told me everything.”

I staggered back, shaking my head in disbelief. “No… no, you are lying—”

She had cancer,” Arzhael said, his voice raw with grief. “She didn’t want you or your father to treat her illness. Not even me. She broke up with me… but she loved you, Ariadne. She was trying to protect you. She told me Marjorie wanted you gone.”

The grief that consumed me was unbearable. My sister, my other half, was gone. My husband betrayed and abandoned me And the woman responsible for framing me—and nearly killed me—is no other than my second cousin.

Marjorie Mirable.

After escaping the Greenhouse, I returned to my family’s countryside estate. But peace was fleeting. My father, frail and devastated, grew weaker by the day.

On his deathbed, he took my hand, his voice barely a whisper.

"Let go of this anger, my love,” he said. “Revenge will destroy you. Forgive those who hurt you, even if they don’t deserve it.”

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. But deep inside, my heart screamed in defiance.

How could I forgive?

After the funeral, I made my decision.

"I’m leaving,” I told Arzhael. “I’m going to Germany. I can’t stay here.”

He nodded, understanding in his eyes.

I knew I couldn’t carry the weight of my anger any longer. I had to let go—not for the sake of forgiveness, but for my survival.

As I stood on the deck of the ship taking me far away, the horizon stretched endlessly before me.

"I’ll find happiness again,” I whispered, the salty breeze carrying my words to the waves.

And when I arrived at the airport and boarded the plane taking me to Germany.

With one last glance at my past, I turned away, ready to begin a new life.