Page 157 of Sweet Obsession

I walked over to his side of the closet, where a few of his jackets hung. I placed the divorce papers carefully inside one of his inner drawers—right on top of the twelve-month contract he once claimed he had burned.

Liar.

Then I turned, wiped my tears, and started packing.

It wasn’t much—just what I needed. My clothes. My journals. My baby’s first sonogram, hidden deep in the pocket of my coat.

When I dragged the suitcase through the hall, its wheels thudding softly behind me, Sofia appeared at the corner.

“Luna...” she whispered, voice breaking. “Stay. Please.”

I stopped.

We stared at each other for a moment—two women with the same sadness in their eyes, different lives, same pain.

“I have to go,” I said quietly. “Please don’t tell him.”

She shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. “He loves you. You know that.”

“Then he should have shown up.”

She stepped forward like she might stop me, but I raised a hand gently. “Don’t. Let me go.”

I found the secret exit—the one the guards weren’t stationed at this hour. I pressed the code, slipped through the narrow door into the cold air.

The night wrapped around me like a bitter blanket. My breath fogged the air. My fingers tightened around the suitcase handle.

I am not leaving because I stopped loving him.

I’m leaving because I still do.

And sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is leave before you’re unloved completely.

Chapter 25

LUNA

The air in Bogotá hit me like a thick, humid blanket, but I barely noticed. My focus was elsewhere, on the promise I’d made to myself—and to Gabriella. I’d done everything to get here, to be with her again, to protect her from the life she’d been forced into. The months of planning, the risk of leaving Yakutsk, the distance between me and Misha, it had all led to this moment.

But there was something else weighing on me now, something I couldn’t shake.

I had left him. I had dropped the signed divorce papers in the drawer of his closet, watching them rest there in a finality that felt almost unreal.

Misha. My husband. My obsession. I had walked away from him, left him behind, knowing how much it would hurt, knowing the fire that would light in him, the anger that would fuel him. The thought of how he’d feel without me, how he’d react to the betrayal... it twisted something in my chest, a knot that refused to loosen.

But I couldn’t turn back.

Twice before, I had escaped him. Each time, he found me, relentless, unyielding, until I was back in his grasp. But this time, this wasn’t an escape. I hadn’t run; I hadn’t fled in fear. I had made a choice. And this time, it wasn’t going to be the same. If Misha found me, when he found me, it wouldn’t be like before. He couldn’t just take me back. No. He had to follow the rightprocess to win me over again. He would have to earn me, fight for me. He would have to prove he still deserved me.

I walked through the terminal, my mind spinning between Gabriella’s safety and Misha’s shattered trust. The cartel, the mess I’d left behind, all of it felt like a distant echo compared to the ache inside me. The ache of knowing I wasn’t going back to him, not now, not after everything.

It didn’t matter now. Not yet. But somewhere, deep inside, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.

And then I saw her.

Gabriella was standing by the curb, waiting for me. She looked almost the same, her chestnut hair still fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her eyes, once so full of joy, were still warm but shadowed. It was the first time I’d seen her in months, and it felt like a lifetime.

As soon as her eyes met mine, her face lit up. She dropped her bag and ran toward me. I couldn’t help it—I ran to her too, and we collided in a hug that felt like the world had stopped spinning.