---- Chapter 11 Keyla stared at him, her face a mask of shocked disbelief. Then it crumpled. "You can't mean that," she sobbed, scrambling out of bed and throwing her arms around his waist. "Garrison, | love you! I've always loved you!" He tried to push her off, but she clung to him like a leech. "| did everything for you!" she shrieked, her voice rising hysterically. She pulled at the strap of her slip, revealing a long, faded scar on her shoulder. "| saved you! | pulled you from that burning car! | got this for you!" It was her trump card, the one she always played. The debt. "Is that what this is about?" she screamed. "You're going to throw me away after everything I've done for you? After last night? You have to take responsibility for me!" She let go of him and ran to the window, fumbling with the latch. "If you leave me, I'll jump! | swear | will!" Garrison froze, his hand on the doorknob. He was trapped. He knew she was manipulative, but he also knew she was unstable enough to do it. If she died, he'd be tied to her forever. ---- A weary sigh escaped his lips. The fight went out of him, replaced by a soul-crushing exhaustion. "Okay," he said, his voice flat. "Okay, Keyla. | won't leave." She turned from the window, her face streaked with tears but her eyes gleaming with triumph. He walked over and mechanically put his arms around her, his touch devoid of any warmth. "But this," he said, his voice low and hard, "this changes nothing. Don't ever touch me again. Don't ever try a stunt like that again. Do you understand?" She just sniffled and buried her face in his chest. Later, he stood on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, the taste of ash a welcome distraction. The guilt was a physical weight in his gut. He had to find Janette. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over her contact photo-a picture he'd taken of her laughing in her mother's garden. His fingers trembled as he typed out a message. Janette, | am so sorry. For everything. | was a fool. | love you. Please come home. He sent it, his heart pounding. No reply. He sent another. I'll make it right. | swear. Remember our trip to Tuscany we always talked about? Let's go. Now. Just tell me where you ---- are. Silence. The next few days were a special kind of hell. He played the part of the concerned partner, taking Keyla to brunch, to shopping trips, his mind a million miles away. He hired private investigators, gave them Janette's photo, and told them to spare no expense. But it was like she had vanished from the face of the earth. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He found Keyla in the living room of his house-her house, now, it seemed-planning a redecoration. "We need to talk," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Ooh, are we picking out new drapes?" she asked brightly. "| can't do this anymore, Keyla," he said. "This... us. It's not real. I'm going to find my wife." The smile fell from her face. "But you promised!" "| promised | wouldn't leave you to jump out a window," he corrected her. "I'm not leaving you. I'm just... not staying with you. I'll get you the best doctors, a beautiful apartment, whatever you want. But we are not a couple." He didn't wait for her reply. He grabbed his keys and walked out, leaving her sputtering in his wake. ---- He drove, fast, toward his own house, the one he had shared with Janette. It felt like the only place he might find a trace of her. He'd bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of her favorite wine and the last first-edition copy of her favorite book from a rare bookseller. Pathetic peace offerings. He rehearsed his apology in his head, a desperate, rambling speech of regret. He pulled into the driveway and ran to the door, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He pushed it open, a hopeful, desperate cry on his lips. "Janette?" The house was silent. Empty. He searched every room, his hope dwindling with each step. In their bedroom, he saw that her side of the closet was bare. Her perfume was gone from the vanity. Then he saw it. Lying on his pillow, a single, folded piece of paper. With a trembling hand, he picked it up. It was a legally filed, judge-stamped copy of their divorce decree. Signed by both of them. Effective two weeks ago. The world tilted on its axis. He sank to his knees, the paper fluttering from his numb fingers. She hadn't just left him. She had legally, irrevocably, erased him ---- from her life. Title: A Tangle of Love (English-dubbed) In "A Tangle of Love," a captivating romance unfolds within a unique observation show where participants navigate intricate relationships, love triangles, and power dynamics. Set against the backdrop of modern-day complexities, this ongoing series delves into themes of reincarnation, revenge, and personal transformation. 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