The water shimmered in shades of red and orange, and Casiana felt she was living a fairy tale moment. However, her fairy tale was about to shatter.
In an instant, Olivian’s palm pushed her forcefully. Casiana felt the air tearing her scream from her chest, and then her body crashed into the cold waves. The shock took her breath away, and her thoughts turned white, empty. She tried to scream again, but the water filled her mouth.
On the boat, Olivian remained motionless, looking down. His face was frozen, but a dark flame burned in his eyes. “For you, Valerie,” he told himself, convinced that his secret had been buried in the sea. The boat drifted away, and Casiana was swallowed by the depths.
Three years later, in Casiana’s hometown, people still spoke of the “wife who disappeared at sea.” For most, she was just a memory. For Olivian, she was a past he pretended to mourn while living alongside Valeria.
But that autumn, the silence shattered.
At the autumn fair in the town, where people came to buy red apples, steaming pies, and hot plum brandy, a silhouette emerged from the crowd. She wore a white coat, and in her gaze burned a light that froze the blood. It was Casiana.
Returned from the depths, not as a ghost, but as a woman who had learned from pain. Rescuers had found her after days of battling the waves on a secluded beach. Since then, she had lived hidden, healing her wounds and feeding her soul with thoughts of justice.
Now, amidst the smell of stuffed cabbage, smoked sausages, and honey, she fixed her eyes on the man who had betrayed her.
Olivian felt a claw in his stomach when he saw her. He brought his hand to his chest, as if trying to stop his heart from leaping. Valeria, beside him, stood frozen.
— No… it can’t be… — he murmured.
Casiana stepped towards them with calm strides, each boot’s touch on the ground covered with dry leaves resonating like a judgment.
— Have you forgotten, Olivian? — her voice was cold, yet charged with the power of lost years. — Have you forgotten that the sea does not accept dirty gifts?
The people around stopped laughing and singing. The peasants in their coats and the women in floral headscarves made the sign of the cross. The elders whispered that God’s justice had come right then, among stalls of apples and baskets of walnuts.
Casiana approached within just a few steps and pulled out the album of memories, the one she had prepared for their anniversary. She opened it and threw it at Olivian’s feet. The pages opened, showing photographs of their former happiness.
— These were our lives. And you chose to throw them into the waves.
Olivian knelt, trembling. Valeria looked at him with hatred and fear, feeling that their guilty love had been nothing but an expensive lie.
Casiana looked up to the sky and whispered a short prayer, as her mother had taught her: “Lord, give me the strength to forgive, but also Your justice.”
Then, in a loud, determined voice, she declared:
— I will not be your executioner. I leave your fate in the hands of the people and the One Above.
The crowd erupted in shouts, demanding the village’s judgment. Olivian was captured and taken to the mayor, while Valeria fled, disappearing among the alleys.
That evening, Casiana sat by the fire, holding a mint tea, listening to an old man playing a tune. The world looked at her as if she had come back to life. Yet she knew that it was not death that had brought her back, but the power to overcome betrayal.
And, as the sky filled with stars, Casiana felt for the first time in years that revenge had only been the beginning. Her true life was just beginning.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
