Save Your Breath, I'm Done Drowning - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading Save Your Breath, I'm Done Drowning, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of Save Your Breath, I'm Done Drowning.
Dillon's voice shook with raw desperation as he pleaded, "I've reclaimed Knight Holdings. Alyssa's out of the picture—completely. She'll never bother you again. Just… please. Give me another chance."
His words dripped with sincerity, but to me, they were just empty noise—like shouts across a canyon that would never reach the other side.
Five years of lies. Five years of him carefully dismantling every truth I'd ever trusted. The wounds he left weren't the kind that healed. They scarred.
I met his gaze without flinching, my voice ice-cold. "We're done talking about the past. The divorce papers are signed. There's nothing left to say."
His face fell. His shoulders tensed like he was bracing for a punch. He opened his mouth—
I cut him off.
"If you think some half-hearted apology will fix what you broke, let me save you the breath. What you did to me? That stays. Forever. I'm never forgiving you."
Dillon went rigid. His lips parted, but whatever speech he'd prepared died in his throat. His eyes burned red, his composure cracking. He searched my face desperately—for mercy, for weakness—but all he found was steel.
I turned away, motioning for my elderly neighbor to follow. "Dillon," I said, not looking back, "you've hurt me enough. If you actually care? Let. Me. Go."
It hit him like a bullet. His whole body locked up, his expression crumbling. He choked out, barely audible, "I know I don't deserve forgiveness. But I'll prove it. However long it takes."
I didn't answer. Silence spoke louder.
Days passed without Dillon reappearing. Maybe he'd finally gotten the message. Maybe I could finally breathe.
Then the knock came—but it wasn't him.
My parents stood at my door. Mom's eyes were puffy, her face gaunt with guilt. She wrung her hands like a sinner at confession. "Mia, we were wrong. So wrong. You never betrayed your sister—Alyssa wasn't even her. She was a fraud. Your real sister's home now. She's waiting for you. Please… come see her."
Her voice shattered on every word, tears streaming unchecked.
I didn't move. My fingers dug into the doorframe. Part of me noted how her apology sounded more like panic than real remorse.
Dad stepped forward, shoulders hunched. "I was a fool. That woman played us all. Because of me, you suffered for years. Let us fix this. Your sister—she's missed you terribly."
Their words washed over me like rain on granite—surface-level, never reaching what was buried deep. I'd known Alyssa framed me. But learning she was an imposter? That just twisted the knife.
A decade. A decade of them treating me like garbage, believing a stranger over their own blood. And now they thought "sorry" erased that?
Mom clutched my arm, sobbing. "Just meet her, Mia. She's been waiting—"
I almost slammed the door. But then I thought of her—my real sister. Innocent in all this.
After a long silence, I nodded.
Seeing her was like stepping into a time machine.
Her eyes—still the same warm brown from childhood—locked onto mine. Then she was running, crashing into me with a hug so tight it stole my breath.
"Sis," she wept into my shoulder, "I found you. God, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never—"
Something in me snapped. The dam broke. I clung to her, shaking, years of loneliness pouring out in hot tears.
She held me like I might vanish. "I know what Mom and Dad did," she whispered. "I'm not making excuses for them. But please… don't shut me out too."
His words dripped with sincerity, but to me, they were just empty noise—like shouts across a canyon that would never reach the other side.
Five years of lies. Five years of him carefully dismantling every truth I'd ever trusted. The wounds he left weren't the kind that healed. They scarred.
I met his gaze without flinching, my voice ice-cold. "We're done talking about the past. The divorce papers are signed. There's nothing left to say."
His face fell. His shoulders tensed like he was bracing for a punch. He opened his mouth—
I cut him off.
"If you think some half-hearted apology will fix what you broke, let me save you the breath. What you did to me? That stays. Forever. I'm never forgiving you."
Dillon went rigid. His lips parted, but whatever speech he'd prepared died in his throat. His eyes burned red, his composure cracking. He searched my face desperately—for mercy, for weakness—but all he found was steel.
I turned away, motioning for my elderly neighbor to follow. "Dillon," I said, not looking back, "you've hurt me enough. If you actually care? Let. Me. Go."
It hit him like a bullet. His whole body locked up, his expression crumbling. He choked out, barely audible, "I know I don't deserve forgiveness. But I'll prove it. However long it takes."
I didn't answer. Silence spoke louder.
Days passed without Dillon reappearing. Maybe he'd finally gotten the message. Maybe I could finally breathe.
Then the knock came—but it wasn't him.
My parents stood at my door. Mom's eyes were puffy, her face gaunt with guilt. She wrung her hands like a sinner at confession. "Mia, we were wrong. So wrong. You never betrayed your sister—Alyssa wasn't even her. She was a fraud. Your real sister's home now. She's waiting for you. Please… come see her."
Her voice shattered on every word, tears streaming unchecked.
I didn't move. My fingers dug into the doorframe. Part of me noted how her apology sounded more like panic than real remorse.
Dad stepped forward, shoulders hunched. "I was a fool. That woman played us all. Because of me, you suffered for years. Let us fix this. Your sister—she's missed you terribly."
Their words washed over me like rain on granite—surface-level, never reaching what was buried deep. I'd known Alyssa framed me. But learning she was an imposter? That just twisted the knife.
A decade. A decade of them treating me like garbage, believing a stranger over their own blood. And now they thought "sorry" erased that?
Mom clutched my arm, sobbing. "Just meet her, Mia. She's been waiting—"
I almost slammed the door. But then I thought of her—my real sister. Innocent in all this.
After a long silence, I nodded.
Seeing her was like stepping into a time machine.
Her eyes—still the same warm brown from childhood—locked onto mine. Then she was running, crashing into me with a hug so tight it stole my breath.
"Sis," she wept into my shoulder, "I found you. God, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never—"
Something in me snapped. The dam broke. I clung to her, shaking, years of loneliness pouring out in hot tears.
She held me like I might vanish. "I know what Mom and Dad did," she whispered. "I'm not making excuses for them. But please… don't shut me out too."
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