He Protected My Baby’s Killer So I Left Him Chapter 18
A year later, the Austin project officially launched.
By the time the celebration dinner ended, it was already ten o’clock.
A colleague asked if I wanted to grab another drink.
I was about to say yes when my mother sent me a message.
Toast is sitting by the door waiting for you.
Beneath it was a photo.
Toast was guarding my slippers, his expression one of deep indignation.
I laughed and texted back:
Be right there.
The new house I’d bought wasn’t far from the office.
I made the down payment myself.
The balcony was large enough for Toast to sunbathe all day.
While we were moving in, my father asked what I wanted to do with the second bedroom.
I thought about it, then turned it into a study.
Not a guest room. And not a nursery.
I never wanted to save a place for anyone ever again.
If someone wanted to enter my life, they could walk in on their own.
I was done standing in one place, waiting for someone to choose me.
Eventually, Isabella was sentenced.
Her father came to Austin once to see me.
He brought a photo of Isabella’s brother, taken before he died.
In it, five teenage boys had just climbed out of a river.
Isabella’s brother was soaked, but his face was bright with laughter.
He said, “When my son saved them, he never expected anything in return.”
“If he knew that debt ended up hurting you, he wouldn’t be able to rest in peace.”
I gently pushed the photo back toward him.
“Sir, your son was the one who saved them.”
“The people who hurt me were them.”
“I know the difference.”
Before he left, he apologized to me again, solemnly.
After that, I stopped following any news about Isabella.
As for Matteo and the others, they slowly faded from my life.