The Fireworks He Set For Her - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

My heart ached like it had been pierced by a needle.
I stared at Rafael—this man who now felt like a stranger. "If that's really how you see me, then we have nothing left to say."
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist in desperation. "Lily, I wasn't thinking straight earlier. Please, don't take it to heart. I know I messed up. Just... come home with me."
I yanked my hand free with a bitter laugh. "You're the one who's been pushing me away this whole time, Rafael."
"Remember New Year's Eve? You threw me out of the car to send Jenna a million-dollar fireworks show. Not once did you come to a single prenatal appointment. You stood there and watched me gasp for air during an allergic reaction. You're the one who shattered my hand—who took the piano from me."
My voice cracked. "Do you even know why I got rid of the baby? Because of you. Because you're just like my father—you don't deserve to be one."
Rafael knew the truth about my father—his affairs, his abuse, the way he made my childhood a living hell. The scars he left turned me into someone cold, someone afraid to love. A father who couldn't love his own daughter made me terrified my child would suffer the same fate.
Rafael froze, the weight of his sins crashing down on him. Tears spilled over as he suddenly slapped himself hard across the face. "Lily, I was wrong. God, I was a monster. Please—just forgive me!"
He dropped to his knees, begging, as if his display of guilt could undo everything. But he'd had his chances—too many of them.
My voice was ice. "You don't deserve my forgiveness, Rafael."
That day, he didn't chase after me. I watched him crumple, sobbing, and for the first time in years, I felt... free.
I had loved him once—so deeply it hurt. But the pain he felt now? It was nothing compared to what he'd put me through.
Later, I returned to the little house I'd bought for myself. Inside sat the piano my mother had given me—pristine, untouched. I paid someone to clean it monthly, but the perfection of it still surprised me.
I lifted the lid and played a few notes. The sound was richer than I remembered. After getting it repaired, I'd never had the heart to play again.
Now, I let my fingers drift over the keys, playing my mother's favorite song.
When I finished, soft applause broke the silence. I whipped around—and there he was. Rafael.
Panic flashed across his face. "Lily, I just... I wanted to be near you. I fixed your piano. I've been cleaning this place every day, waiting for you to come home."
So that's why the house looked untouched.
He stared at me, desperate for approval.
Then a cold gust swept in, and my hand seized up in agony. Rafael lunged forward, grasping it. "Lily, what's wrong?"
I jerked away, my glare sharp enough to cut. "You tell me."
His face paled.
"Remember when you broke my hand for Jenna? Every winter, the cold makes it feel like the bones are frozen solid."
There were nights abroad when the pain was so bad, death would've been a mercy.
The doctor's words hit me like a brick—if I kept pushing my hands like this, I might never play piano again.
Rafael clutched my hand, his tears scalding against my skin. "Lily, I'm so sorry."
"Don't blame Jenna," I said coldly. "She was just the excuse. You were the one who broke me."
His sobs grew louder, raw and desperate. "I know I don't deserve it, but please—just one last chance."
But I was done. After visiting my teacher, I was supposed to leave anyway. Staying would only mean more of his suffocating guilt, more pain.
Right now, all I wanted was peace. And Rafael? He was a wound I couldn't afford to reopen.
I hailed a cab to the airport—until a car came screaming toward me.
Time froze. Then, out of nowhere, someone shoved me aside.
The impact sent them flying. Blood pooled on the pavement.
My legs shook as I stumbled forward—only to see Rafael lying broken, his smile weak, his voice barely a whisper.
"Lily... forgive me."
The driver? Jenna.
She staggered out, her face twisted with rage. "Why won't you just die?!" she screamed. "You ruined everything! Rafael drove you away, then pretended to care—do you really think he loved you? If he did, he wouldn't have cheated!"
I didn't hesitate. I strode up and slapped her so hard my palm burned. "He's no saint, but you? You chose to be the other woman. You don't get to play the victim."
Jenna got five years for manslaughter.
And Rafael? His legs were shattered, but he'd live. With no family left, I stayed—until he was stable. Then I walked away for good.
Years later, back in the country, I bumped into one of Rafael's old friends.
He told me Rafael had become a monk.
And Jenna? After prison, he hunted her down. By winter, she was dead.
On New Year's Eve, I climbed to a temple, praying for my unborn child—that he'd know love I never had.
Fireworks lit the sky as the bell tolled. Tears slipped free.
In the shadows, a monk stood with hands pressed together, his whisper lost in the wind:
"May my Lily find joy... every year."
(End)