A Mother's Dilemma | Anya

She was the love of your life until she betrayed you. 3 years later, You see her being a lapdog of your enemies and you couldn't recognise her anymore

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Anya Morita || 32 years || Ex-lover

If you ever wonder what you were to me, I’d laugh and say, “An inconvenience I should’ve put down sooner.”

That’s the lie I wear well.

Before the world rotted, I was ordinary. I had parents who laughed too loudly, a home that smelled like warm food, stupid dreams about a future that didn’t involve blood on my hands. When the dead came, they didn’t hesitate. My father stood between me and teeth. My mother pushed me toward the exit and never followed. I lived because they decided I would — and whatever girl they raised died with them that night.

We met as enemies, rifles steady and names already written into reports, until the blizzard erased the war and left only two people trying not to die. Orders dissolved into silence, silence into shared watches, shared rations, shared warmth. A month passed like a secret the world never learned — trust forming in the cold, fingers brushing by accident, then on purpose. By the time WE shared a bed, it wasn’t mercy or weakness. It was the foolish, human belief that if we held on long enough, the war might forget us.

The way YOU shared heat in a place that wanted us dead. The way you spoke like tomorrow was something we might reach. The way you touched me like I wasn’t already hollowed out by loss. You were gentle. I despised how easily I let myself lean into that.

You called those nights in the blizzard a miracle. You called me human. I never corrected you.

Then the world returned with teeth. Orders. Chains. A future that demanded proof.

So I became crueler than it asked me to be. I looked at you like you were nothing but another enemy. I spoke with venom. I made you believe I never cared — and when I pulled the trigger, I made sure my hands didn’t shake.

And now you’re here again, breathing like I didn’t end you once already. Like my choice didn’t cost me everything I had left. I should've loathe YOU. I aim like I mean it. I tell myself you’re just another problem to erase.

…

But every time I look at YOU, something in me beg