Zed's POV
"What do you mean by that?" I roar from the doorway when I see her packing her things into a suitcase. All my nerves seem to quiver at the thought of her leaving me. I have already prepared my mind for this, but I realize I will never be ready.
She scrambles to her feet – fear, worry, and anger seem to flash in rapid succession in her reaction.
"Zed, I'm sorry," she glances for a second, then returns to what she's doing.
I slowly stride towards the back of the sofa. From there, I can look at her closely since it sits across the bed where her things are scattered.
"Just like this, Ella? Don't I deserve an explanation or a few words before you leave?" My shoulders drop as I throw her a frustrated look. My voice isn't loud, but its wave is enough to tell her I am hurting.
"If there's someone who should be explaining here, it should be you. Not me," she tells me, her voice starting to crack. It hints at anger and humiliation.
That sorry look she initially gave me is now replaced with silent fury. And I'm not a fool to ask the cause of her disappointment. Because I know the answer.
"You're lying to me, Zed. You had all the chance to confess, but you fooled me all along." She flails her fingers at me, her face starting to flush.
"Ella. Please, let me explain. I just didn't know how to tell you."
"I would have understood if you have confessed in the first place. But you, yourself, know how long you have fooled me around. Do you know what's the real issue here?"
Her words stab like a knife, piercing deep into my heart.
"It's the trust, Zed! You know you have wasted and broken that," she slowly but angrily spits out the words, her eyes emitting fire.
I hang my head low for a couple of seconds. Then, placing both my hands on top of the backrest, I lean my body against it for support.
"If you're willing to hear me, I'll speak. But if you close your mind before hearing me first, I would understand." I steal a look at her, and I see her closing her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. I begin to lose the hope of being heard out, but then her voice floats in my ears.
"Speak."
I stare at her pretty face. Her eyes are still closed, perhaps still fighting the urge to storm out of this room. She has her palms interlaced on her forehead as if bracing herself ahead from the impact of what I am going to say.
"I took a degree in Criminal Justice, then ended up with an investigation team before Yen's case happened. At that time, James' name has been involved already in several illegal transactions across the country."
She froze for a second. Perhaps, she thought I had Mass Communication because that's the career I'm focusing on.
"But the irony of it happened when Yen got involved in the investigation sessions. See, aside from Yen being the one I was willing to die for, the investigation about James was in line with my work. I only plead to delay the arrest because Yen was gravely affected and even lost her memory. I didn't want her to face shame and humiliation from being the center of public attention."
I see her wincing in pain at this revelation. Perhaps because I said I was willing to die for Yen. I pretend not to see her expression and go on with my explanation. This may be the last time she hears me out.
"And aside from that, we needed more time. James' connection was too deep and intricate. Rumor has it that he's even involved in the biggest organized crime group in the world."
Her mouth drops open. If my team's speculation is true, then he could be working with groups like Solntsevskaya Bratva or the Yamaguchi Gumi group, collectively referred to as "Yakuza." These groups earn billions in drug trafficking, gambling, counterfeiting, and others.
"So, are you saying that you won't stop hunting him until he rots in prison?"
Zed shakes his head. "I stopped working with the team a long time ago, Ella. I can't ruin my life hunting people that would rob me of peace. My father wouldn't come back to life even if I'd get killed in the process."
"Your father?" This is the first time her eyes flicker in interest.
"Yes. That's why I joined the team."
She stares at me, her eyes holding hundreds of questions. However, she's so furious to ask further about it. I don't want to talk about him, either. My life during his death was one of the chapters in my life I have always tried to delete. And after what happened to Yen, I felt this line of work was only attracting more and more incidents like that in my life, so I stopped.
"However, I have realized there's more to life than hunting criminals. And hunting them, instead of letting go, sows more hatred and violence."
She looks down again and resumes packing. And I realize our situation is already beyond redemption. My team's reward for exposing the crimes the legendary businessman had committed is also the same lethal weapon that killed Ella's future and happiness. To put it in simpler words, Ella has all the right to hate me. And it's because I was the one who killed her fiancé.
I slowly walk out of the room. I just can't watch her step out of the house and out of my life. Steering away from heartbreak as much as possible, I head to my secret room. I pick up a blank canvas and a new brush – something I haven't done in years. I begin dabbing random colors onto the white sheet, then make wild strokes that convey the anger and pain welling up inside me. My right hand, which used to be light and flexible, is now stiff.
I close my eyes, blindly moving my brush according to the pattern in my mind. With each stroke I make, I pour out my emotion into it – misery, frustration, love fiasco – all blending into those furious strokes. However, the portrait I just created out of the turmoil inside my heart surprises me as I open my eyes.
It's Ella.