Yes, I'm a Witch

Disbelief filled Christian's eyes, and the rims slowly turned red.

…

It was the day before I would depart for Asternis.

It was our anniversary, but Christian had forgotten about it, perhaps. He was already gone when morning came, just like he would in the years before.

I let out a quiet breath of relief.

The living room was nothing but a mess from the chaos that happened the night before. The air was thick with sex and bodily fluids. Disgusting as it was, I had to clean it up.

I had just finished wiping the floor when the door opened.

Before I could get up, Christian slammed his foot into my waist. There were stitched wounds from the miscarriage there, and I collapsed against the couch.

"Why did you do it, Natasha?"

Jasmine was crying in Christian's arms, and her eyes were filled with burning hatred. "I know you hate me for taking Christian away, but you should've come at me, not my baby!"

Jasmine's hatred coursed through her veins. Then she slapped me.

The stitch opened up, and I winced. My cheek was burning from pain and humiliation.

Christian hurled accusation after accusation at me, but I had no idea what I had supposedly done. I was going to leave very soon. There was no reason to sabotage anyone.

When his anger finally settled into something colder, he looked at me as if I were a stranger.

"I treated you like a queen, Natasha," he said icily. "And you bribed a servant to poison her food because you were jealous. The baby can't be saved now. You thought you were clever, but you left evidence."

My wound throbbed sharply. I tried to push myself up, but Christian stepped down on my hand.

"Do you even have any remorse, Natasha?"

His heart already belonged to someone else. Any explanation from me would only sound like another lie to him.

My silence infuriated him further. He dragged me upright and gripped my throat, his eyes dark with cruelty and despair.

"I already promised to keep her out of your sight," he said. "Why did you still go after her?"

It was hard, but I managed to speak a few words. "What… proof… do you… have?"

Christian sneered. "The servant killed herself after she confessed to her crimes. I don't think anyone would take their own life just to frame you, do you?"

I shook my head weakly. His sneer deepened.

"Her family was ill years ago, and you paid for their treatment. She owed you. She did your dirty work, then broke down because she still had a conscience."

'So that's the reality you came up with yourself?' I wondered.

In his eyes, I was already a vicious, scheming woman. No matter how many times I could explain myself, all Jasmine had to do was shed a tear, and my efforts would be erased.

The seas were howling behind me, the winds ramming straight into my back. They were trying to tell me something.

Yes, it was time to leave.

With a smile on my face, I pulled Christian's fingers away from my neck, one by one.

"Yes," I said softly. "It was me. I'm the evil witch."

Christian was dumbstruck, and I let out a low, hollow laugh. Then I picked up a fountain pen and pointed it toward Jasmine.

"She stole the man I loved," I said, my voice trembling with something close to madness. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear? That I hated her? That I wanted her gone, along with the child in her womb?"

Jasmine immediately shrank into Christian's arms.

There was disappointment in Christian's eyes. It was directed at me.

A sharp pain flashed through my wrist as Christian snatched the pen away. His face was terrifyingly cold as he pointed the pen at my stomach.

He let out a low, guttural sound. "Perhaps I've spared the rod and spoiled you too much."

The tip grazed my skin and drew droplets of blood. The pain was nothing more than a little sting, and it lasted for a mere moment.

Perhaps he thought he had spared me. Perhaps I should have been grateful.

Instead, I looked at Jasmine, then at Christian's cold, indifferent face. And for the first time in years, I felt relief.

I was finally free from this ruined love.

Without another word, I turned and jumped out of the floor-to-ceiling window. The rolling seas accepted me in its chilling embrace.

The cold swallowed me whole, and only one thought remained.

'Goodbye, Christian.'