A Pain So Deep
ARIANA'S POV
"He's not done."
The words echoed like a scream inside my skull.
Not done.
Not done?
My knees threatened to buckle beneath me, but I stood frozen, staring at her—this woman who looked like my mother, sounded like her, moved like her, but wasn't her.
"What do you mean he's not done?" I asked, voice trembling, hollowed out by disbelief.
She looked down, like she couldn’t bear to meet my eyes, like the shame weighed too heavy on her shoulders.
"I mean," she whispered, "Garry may be in prison, but he has power... more than I can explain."
My heart pounded in my ears, loud and brutal.
"Power? What kind of power? How does a man locked in a goddamn cell still control people like puppets?"
She rubbed her arms, trembling. "I don’t know. Maybe he bribes the guards, maybe he has people on the outside doing his bidding... all I know is that when he wants something, he gets it. Even behind bars."
I stared at her, stunned, my breathing shallow, my chest caving in around my ribs like they were made of paper.
He wasn’t done.
He wasn’t finished ruining our lives.
I could barely feel my own body anymore. Everything inside me burned—raw and furious and unraveling all at once. My eyes seared with betrayal, so hot they blurred the world in front of me.
And still, the memories came.
Uninvited.
Unforgiving.
That night.
The night he kidnapped her—my mother. Or... this woman. I remembered the terror in her eyes when I found her tied to that chair.
Was it all a lie?
A performance to lure me out?
Had everything been scripted from the start?
Was anything real?
The pain twisted in my chest, cruel and merciless. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.
I needed to get away.
"Ariana, wait—"
Her voice sliced through the air as I turned away from her.
I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
I ran.
I ran like the ground would swallow me whole if I stayed a second longer.
I didn’t look back. Her cries followed me, but I shut them out. My heart was thundering in my chest like a war drum.
The guards stepped forward as I reached the driveway, their concern obvious.
"Miss—please, you can’t leave like this. It’s not safe."
"Get away from me," I snapped, voice shaking with fury. "I said leave me alone."
They moved to block my path, trying to calm me down, their mouths forming words I couldn't even register.
I wasn’t listening.
I couldn’t listen.
"I need to go. Move. NOW!"
They hesitated for a split second too long, and I shoved past them, storming toward my car. My hands trembled as I pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind me.
Tears blurred my vision as I started the car and the engine roared to life like it was screaming with me. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.
And then—I drove.
Fast.
Reckless.
Every tree I passed, every bend in the road, every flash of light felt like I was driving away from myself, from the truth, from everything I didn’t want to face.
I didn’t even know where I was going until I got there.
The bridge.
The one overlooking the river, where I used to come with Dad on Sunday mornings, back when life made sense. Back when Mom—my real mom—would pack us lunches and kiss us goodbye, laughing when Dad told her he’d bring me back with ten scraped knees.
I slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt.
The silence that followed was so loud it hurt.
I got out slowly, the wind lashing against my skin like punishment.
The water below was dark, angry, swirling. Just like the storm in my chest.
And then—
I screamed.
I screamed like it would cleanse me.
I screamed so loud my throat tore.
But it didn’t help.
It didn’t quiet the storm. It didn’t bring her back.
She was gone.
My mother was dead.
And I... I had been living with a stranger.
The weight of it crushed me. My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees on the cold, hard ground. My hands covered my face as sobs ripped out of me, ugly and violent.
The kind of sobs that didn't ask for comfort.
The kind that were too far gone.
How could I not have known?
Five years.
Five whole years.
How many times had I laughed with her? Cried with her? Looked into her eyes and felt safe—only to realize it was all a lie?
Was anything I remembered even real?
She'd held me when I cried over Dad.
Was it guilt that made her good at pretending?
Or was I just too desperate to see the truth?
My body rocked with the force of my sobs. I wanted to peel the skin off my chest just to stop the burning inside. I wanted to scream forever, to drown in it, to disappear into the pain and never come back.
This wasn’t just betrayal.
It was annihilation.
I didn’t know who I was anymore.
And I didn’t know how to go back to the girl I’d been before today.
Because she was gone too.
The river wind howled around me, wild and merciless. I could still hear her voice in my ears—calling after me, begging me to stop, to listen.
But all I heard was the lie.
The one she lived every single day for five years.
And the name.
Garry.
That man had stolen everything from me. My mother. My safety. My family.
And now I knew he wasn’t done.
Which meant this... this pain... this was just the beginning.
I stayed there on the bridge for what felt like hours. Letting the world pass me by. Letting the cold seep into my bones like a punishment I deserved for not knowing. For loving the wrong person. For believing a lie.
Eventually, my sobs slowed. My throat was raw. My body ached. My soul felt hollow.
But I stood.
Because I had to.
The world still looked the same—but I didn’t.
The sobs were gone, but my heart still screamed.
And the only thing I knew for sure—
Was that nothing would ever be the same again.
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