"Ethan, just let me go. Forget about me and that dream too. We both deserve to really live, to stay grounded in reality and face what’s in front of us. That’s the only way all of this means anything."
Isabella’s voice was soft, almost gentle. "Honestly, I treasure my life now. I want to hold onto it for as long as I can. The idea of dying scares me to death."
She had every reason to want to live a long life. Her career was thriving, her bank account looked good, she had her own place, and her boyfriend was the kind of good-looking everyone noticed. It would be a waste not to enjoy all of that for as many years as she could get.
"Just focus on getting better. Once you’re back in Cabinda and healed up, Harold and I will take you out to dinner."
With that, Isabella stood and started to leave.
"Isabella," Ethan called after her.
She paused, glancing back.
He spoke quietly. "Don’t you want to know what happened next in the dream?"
She shook her head. "It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I’m alive, I’m okay, and that was only a dream. I don’t need to keep holding onto something that’s already gone."
"Take care of yourself. I hope you get well soon," she added with a quick smile. She gave him a small wave and walked out, not even looking back as she left the hospital room.
The moment she was gone, Ethan felt tears slipping down his face again.
They really were over. There was no going back. What was lost was lost.
He still remembered the dread he’d felt the day he let her go, agreeing to the divorce. He’d been terrified that if he loosened his grip, he’d never get a chance to hold onto her again. Now that fear had become real—she was gone, truly gone, and not even curious about the dream anymore.
She was right. It was just a dream. They’re both living in the real world now, and she had no reason to dwell on something that didn't matter.



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