Chapter 29
Chapter 29
For hours, Colette lay in the same bed where only a short time ago, she and Matt had been together. The room still held his scent, a cruel reminder of the emptiness that followed. She felt like a discarded toy, used and then left behind. The rumpled sheets, the lingering smell of their intimacy, and the marks on her skin were all testaments to what she had allowed herself to become—a possession, nothing more.
Colette was once again reduced to a role she had desperately tried to avoid: his whore. The reality stung as she realized that this was all she was to him—something to be used when convenient, then cast aside. She knew she needed to remember this moment, to etch it into her memory as a warning against any future hope or weakness. This night, this bed, and the way she felt now would serve as a stark reminder of the life she had been living—a life that was a painful cycle of love, betrayal, and self-degradation.
As dawn broke, Colette forced herself out of bed, her body heavy with the weight of the previous night’s events. She moved mechanically, packing her belongings with a numbness that had settled deep within her. Every action felt distant, like she was watching herself from afar. Before going downstairs she called for a taxi.
Descending the stairs, she found Roxy and Roger in the small kitchen, their voices hushed. The moment they noticed her, they fell silent, their eyes filled with concern. Roxy, ever the gracious hostess, offered, "Coffee? Or maybe some breakfast? I could make toast or an omelette…"
But Colette couldn’t bring herself to accept the kindness. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "The taxi is already here, waiting for me. I just wanted to thank you both for inviting me." Her words felt awkward, hollow, but she had to say something. She couldn’t just leave without acknowledging their hospitality.
Roxy moved closer, pressing a kiss to Colette’s cheek. "I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe," she said, her tone gentle, as if coaxing a frightened animal. "Matt will come around, I’m sure."
Colette nodded, but the numbness inside her only grew. She managed a bland smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. Because she knew now—Matt wasn’t coming around. Not tomorrow, not ever. And she had to stop waiting for him, stop hoping. It didn’t matter if Roxy called her tomorrow or the day after; Colette wouldn’t answer. She needed to sever this connection, to walk away completely and forever.
As the taxi pulled away, the weight of her decision settled on her shoulders, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel crushing. Instead, it felt like the beginning of an end she desperately needed.
Within the span of an hour, she found herself at the bustling airport terminal, her face illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights as she queued at the ticket counter. She was purchasing a one-way ticket back to Sydney, her hands trembling slightly as she used the money Matt had been sending her every month. The irony was not lost on her; she had never intended to rely on the funds he provided, yet now, in a cruel twist of fate, it was his money that would facilitate her escape from this ordeal. As she clutched the ticket in her hand, a sense of bitter justice settled over her. He had brought her here and then left her stranded, so it seemed only fair that his blasted money would now serve as her lifeline back home. Two hours later, the plane touched down at Sydney Airport, and as she stepped off, the sky mirrored her inner turmoil. It had darkened into a brooding, gray expanse, the clouds hanging heavy with the promise of a downpour.
Her footsteps quickened as she made her way to baggage claim, each stride driven by a mix of urgency and exhaustion. She retrieved her luggage with shaking hands and hurried towards the airport exit. The moment she was inside the taxi, the heavens unleashed their fury. The rain poured down with an intensity that could rival the Amazon's torrential cascades, drumming relentlessly against the taxi's roof and blurring the city lights into shimmering streaks. Despite the torrential downpour and the crawl of traffic, the driver skillfully navigated the flooded streets. They were nearly at Zoe’s flat when her phone began to ring, an insistent, jarring sound that cut through the din of the storm. Colette’s patience was worn thin; the cacophony of her life felt overwhelming. She was on the brink of hurling the phone out of the moving taxi in sheer frustration, yearning to disconnect from everyone and everything.
As the relentless rain hammered against the taxi windows, Colette’s finger hovered over the phone, ready to silence the intrusive call. But then she glanced at the caller ID, and her heart skipped a beat. It was her Aunt Beth—the woman who had reluctantly become her guardian after the tragic death of her parents when Colette was just seven. Aunt Beth had never been one to shower her with affection or warmth. To her, Colette had been more of an obligation than a beloved niece. The woman had provided a roof over her head, food, and education with the utmost reluctance, fulfilling her duty with a stony resignation. Their relationship had never been close, marked by a palpable distance and a mutual sense of relief when Colette had announced her engagement to Matt. The day she left for her new life, both sides had been more than eager to part ways. To Aunt Beth and Uncle Steve, Colette had been just another mouth to feed, and her departure was met with a barely concealed sense of satisfaction.
Despite their estrangement, they maintained a veneer of civility, exchanging obligatory pleasantries on holidays and birthdays. Since today was neither a holiday nor a special occasion, Colette was puzzled and unnerved by the unexpected call. “Hello, Auntie Beth,” she answered, trying to mask her unease. Her tone was steady, but a knot of apprehension tightened in her chest. She braced herself for her Aunt’s usual brusque demeanor. Instead, the line crackled with something far more unsettling. The sound of her Aunt’s sobs, raw and broken, pierced through the static and struck Colette with a jolt of fear. “Aunt Beth!”
The devastating news came in ragged, broken pieces: her Uncle Steve had suffered a heart attack and was teetering on the brink of death. The enormity of it all hit her like a crushing wave. Her mind reeled as she processed the realization that Uncle Steve was her last living blood relative.
the weight of reality hit Colette with a devastating force. She pulled the phone away from her ear, her vision blurring as a profound sense of despair engulfed her. Uncle Steve had been her last living blood relative, the final link to her past, and now he was slipping away. The enormity of her loneliness settled in, a relentless tidal wave that threatened to drown her.
Her life had already been marred by loss: her husband had left her for another woman, her parents had been gone for over two decades, and now even Uncle Steve, with whom she had maintained a distant and strained relationship, was about to be gone. The realization that she would soon be utterly alone, in every sense that mattered, was a harrowing blow. The loneliness, once a mere physical presence, had crystallized into a nightmarish, visceral pain that gripped her with an almost suffocating intensity. The thought of navigating the world without any remaining family felt unbearable, an overwhelming void that left her paralyzed with fear and sorrow.
Her tears began to flow unchecked, streaming down her face. The taxi driver’s soft, concerned voice broke through her numb state, asking if she was alright. The question was almost absurd in its simplicity, given the gravity of her emotional turmoil. “Can you please take me to Westmead Hospital instead?” she managed to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper.
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