Chapter 3 When love turns into ashes

Amelia's POV

The next day, the café was unusually quiet, save for the faint hum of the coffee machine in the background. My hands rested on the counter, trembling slightly as I stared at the steam rising from my untouched cup. My gaze drifted to Mark's drawing hung on the wall, a perfect snapshot of innocence, and my chest tightened.

How had it come to this? How had my life, once filled with dreams and laughter, spiraled into this storm of heartbreak and betrayal? My thoughts pulled me back-back to Willowridge, six years ago, when everything had been so different.

The summer sun had bathed Willowridge in golden light, its warmth matching the joy I always felt when Daniel was around. We were inseparable back then, best friends since childhood, bound by shared dreams and stolen moments at the stream that wound its way through the village.

That stream was our haven, a place where we whispered secrets, made promises, and dreamed of a future far beyond the sleepy town. I loved him long before I ever admitted it to myself. And when he finally kissed me one crisp autumn evening by the water's edge, it felt like every star in the sky had aligned just for us.

We had plans-plans to leave Willowridge together, to escape the small-town life and build something greater as a power couple. Daniel had always spoken of the city with a light in his eyes, and I was ready to follow him anywhere, to support his dream.

But that dream shattered the morning I woke up to find him gone.

I remembered the panic that gripped me as I ran to his house, pounding on the door until my knuckles ached. His mother opened it, her face pale and tight.

"Where's Daniel?" I asked, breathless, my chest heaving.

She hesitated, glancing back inside before stepping onto the porch. "He left early this morning. Said he had something important to do in the city."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "The city?" I whispered, disbelief clawing at my throat. "He didn't say anything to me."

Her expression softened, but her words only made it worse. "He didn't tell anyone, Amelia. He just... left."

I refused to believe it. Daniel will not leave the city without informing me about it, it is impossible. My feet carried me away from the house without thinking. I went to the stream, our favorite place, half-expecting to see him sitting on the rocks with that crooked smile of his. But the only thing waiting for me there was silence.

I asked anyone I passed in the village if they'd seen him. Most shook their heads, but one old man stopped long enough to say, "Saw him heading toward the station at dawn. Had a bag with him. Looked like he was in a hurry."

My knees buckled, and I sank onto a bench near the market square. He was gone. No goodbye, no explanation, no letter. Just... gone.

When I returned home that evening, my mother, Margaret was waiting for me in the parlor, her sharp gaze sweeping over me as though she could see the cracks in my heart.

I didn't talk or reply to anyone for days while I hoped that Daniel would come back for me.

"So, your little boyfriend ran off," Margaret said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I always knew he'd leave you behind. Boys like that don't stay in places like this. And they certainly don't stay for girls like you. He just used you to kill time".

Her words stung, but it was the cold smirk on her face that broke me. She wasn't surprised, and wasn't even disappointed. She was amused.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Because it's the truth, Amelia," she said with a dismissive wave. "Daniel was never going to marry you. You were just a distraction for him until something better came along."

I wanted to scream, to lash out at her, but I couldn't. The devastation in my chest left no room for anger.

Days turned into weeks, and my mother wasted no time making her next move.

"You're not getting any younger," she said one evening, sliding a glossy photo across the dining table. "Richard is a good man. He comes from a respectable family. He's willing to marry you."

I stared at the photo, bile rising in my throat. Richard was nearly a decade older than me, with a cold, calculating smile that made my skin crawl. "Mum, he's far older than me and I don't even know him," I said, pushing the photo away.

"You'll get to know him," she said sharply. "And you'll marry him. This is what's best for you."

"I won't do it," I said, my voice shaking.

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. "If you don't, you can pack your things and leave this house. I won't have an ungrateful daughter sullying my name."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and final. I had nowhere else to go. No money, no allies. Daniel was gone, my only best friend, and with him, my dreams of a better life.

The wedding was a blur of forced smiles and hollow vows. Richard's grip on my arm was tight, his presence suffocating. I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter, the weight of my mother's expectations chaining me to a man I didn't love.

At first, I tried to make it work. I cooked, cleaned, and did everything a "good wife" was supposed to do. But it didn't take long for Richard's true nature to surface.

"You call this dinner?" he sneered one night, throwing a plate across the room. "You can't do anything right, can you?"

His words cut deeper than any blade, and his temper grew worse with each passing day. He belittled me, controlled me, said harsh words to me and turned our home into a prison.

I went to my mother, desperate for help.

"Richard treats me like a servant," I said, tears streaming down my face. "He yells at me, calls me names-"

"Stop being dramatic," she interrupted, her tone cold. "You have a roof over your head and a husband who provides for you. Do you know how many women would kill for that?"

"But he-"

"Enough, Amelia!" she snapped. "You're lucky he even married you. You'd better learn to be grateful before he decides he's had enough of your whining."

Her words crushed what little hope I had left. I was alone, trapped in a nightmare with no way out.

The sound of the café door slamming brought me back to the present. I blinked, realizing I was gripping the counter so tightly my knuckles had turned white.

Daniel's sudden reappearance in my life had ripped open old wounds I thought had healed. The man who had abandoned me, the man who had left without a word, now threatened to destroy the one thing I had left-my café, my sanctuary, my home.

The weight of the memories was almost unbearable, but I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not now. Not with Mark depending on me.

I straightened up, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I didn't know how I was going to fight Daniel or save the café, but one thing was certain: I wasn't the same naive girl he had left behind.

I glanced at Mark's drawing, its bright colors a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me. For his sake, I had to be strong. For his sake, I would fight.

But as I stared out the window, a single thought nagged at the back of my mind: What would happen when Daniel learned the truth?

Would he try to take Mark away from me too?