Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 445:

Concealed beneath a hat and mask, the mysterious passenger caught Rachel’s attention.

She cast a curious glance before returning her gaze to the passing landscape.

Minutes into the journey, Natalia could no longer contain herself. Removing her disguise, she took a deep breath. “Rachel, don’t you recognize me?”

“Natalia?”

Rachel’s surprise was immediate and genuine.

“What are you doing here?”

Natalia grabbed her arm. “Of course, I’m coming back with you.”

“Not waiting for him?” Rachel asked, her question subtle but clear.

They both knew who “him” referred to.

“Not anymore,” Natalia said, almost to herself. “I’ve realized something… In this world, I can fight for anything I want—except love. That’s the one thing that refuses to be forced. I once gave it my all… but that’s enough. At least now, I won’t have regrets.”

Rachel studied her, noting the quiet strength in her voice.

Natalia had changed—grown.

Rachel reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s the right way to see it. You’re still young. There are people out there who will be worth your love.”

Natalia nodded, more certain now. “I know.”

The two of them leaned against each other and dozed off, lulled by the steady rhythm of the train.

When they woke up, they snacked and talked, and before they knew it, the journey had passed in a blur.

At the station, Natalia had to head home first, so they parted with a hug, promising to meet soon.

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The next evening, just as Rachel was stepping out of work, her phone rang.

“Hey, are you free right now?” said Elsa.

“I just clocked out. What’s up?”

“Can I see you?” Elsa’s voice was unusually strained.

“Of course. Meet me at the restaurant next to my office?”

Rachel ordered dinner and hadn’t waited long before Elsa arrived, looking as if she had dragged herself through a battlefield.

Her face was pale, her eyes sunken with exhaustion, and even the way she moved seemed weighed down by an invisible burden.

“Elsa, have you been sleeping at all?” Rachel asked, her concern deepening.

Elsa gave a feeble nod, but her dry lips and weary expression told another story.

“Let’s eat first,” Rachel suggested gently. “We can talk while we eat.”

Elsa didn’t argue, merely muttering a weak, “Okay.”

But halfway through the meal, the dam finally broke. She dropped her utensils, buried her face in her arms, and began to sob—deep, gut-wrenching cries that shook her whole frame.

Rachel immediately put down her fork, reached across the table, and rubbed soothing circles on Elsa’s back. “Elsa,” she murmured, her voice soft yet steady, “tell me what happened.”

Elsa didn’t answer. She just kept crying, her shoulders trembling violently.

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