I turned the page.

And the handwriting changed with it. It was still Mirena’s. Still her words to her dead mother. But the neat and delicate strokes from before were gone. Replaced by letters that leaned too far, pressed too hard against the paper. Written by a hand that was no longer steady.

Dorian read it.

"Mother, I don’t know what to do anymore. Father found out about us."

His eyes moved across each line without blinking.

"Someone told him what was going on between me and Dorian. And today he showed a side of himself that made me shiver with each word he spoke. He was serious. He didn’t ask what was happening between us. He didn’t want an explanation. He simply ordered me that if I don’t end this, he will kill Dorian. Not some punishment. Not exile. He will end him."

The diary was shaking in Dorian’s grip now.

"He is too cruel, Mother. He didn’t even ask what I wanted. I am locked in my room right now, guarded by his men. And the possibility of running away with Dorian is no longer there."

I turned the page and looked at the same being who made people tremble with his mere presence. He was shaking now. His grey hands hovering over the new page where the ink was bleeding in places. Warped by drops that had fallen on the paper before it could dry. Not water. Not rain. These were the marks of someone who had been crying directly onto the page while writing.

"Mother. I swear on everything I have left. If something happens to Dorian because of me, I will take my own life. I mean it. There will be no reason to exist in a world where my love was the cause of his death."

Dorian’s legs gave slightly. It wasn’t a collapse. It was a shift. The kind of movement a building makes right before the foundation cracks. He was still standing but whatever was holding him up was failing from the inside.

I didn’t care. I let it flow and did my part. I turned the page.

"Mother, I am worried. Dorian would be back any moment now. His errand is almost complete and once he gets back, once he learns the situation, he will break. Or worse, my enraged father will break him. I don’t know what I should do. I even told father that I don’t care about Dorian anymore, just leave him be, push him away from us. But he isn’t listening. All he wants now is to make Dorian suffer for his actions."

I saw the mouth that had been grinding with anger until now was left hanging open. So before turning the page I said something of my own.

"Looks like she really cared for you. What a lucky bastard you are. My fiancée framed me and got me stripped of my family."

My words did exactly what they were meant to do. Rub salt into wounds far greater than any physical injury. Because even his demon blood couldn’t heal this. Couldn’t regenerate himself from what was being torn apart right now.

I turned to the next page. The handwriting was barely readable. Each letter looked like it had been carved into the paper by someone using the last shred of their willpower just to hold a pen.

"Mother. I have found a way. The only way. A terrible, ugly, unforgivable path. But the only one that keeps him alive."

I could feel the air getting lighter around us. Whatever demonic pressure Dorian had been radiating was thinning with each word he read.

"Mother. I am going to become the villain. I will break his heart myself. I will destroy everything we built together with my own words. I will make him believe that everything between us was a lie. So that he runs far away from here. Because if he stays, if he ever tries to come back for me, father will kill him."

The next line hit different from everything before.

"And I would rather be hated by the man I love for the rest of my life than stand over his grave knowing my love is what put him there."

Dorian’s hands went to his face. Pressing against his skull. Clawing at the bone like he was trying to dig through it to reach the part of his brain that was forcing him to absorb all of this.

I turned the page.

This one was the worst. The paper itself was destroyed. Warped beyond saving. The ink had run in every direction because the tears that fell on it weren’t drops. They were streams. This was a girl sitting alone in her room, writing to her dead mother after committing the worst act of love any human being could ever commit.

"Mother, I did it. I called him a toy. I called him entertainment. I told him I was bored of him. I laughed while they beat him. I watched his eyes stare at me and I kept laughing. Because if I stopped for even one second, he would have seen through me."

Dorian’s breathing had turned into something between gasping and choking.

"Mother. The look on his face. It was like I stabbed him. Not in the chest. In the soul itself. In the part of him that only I had access to. And I twisted the blade. Because I needed him to hate me enough to never come back."

Then came the lines that broke something inside even me.

"See, Mother? How good of an actress your daughter is? How she betrayed the person who is the world to her? How she laughed and mocked? Are you proud of me? Because I am really feeling how great I am right now."

The self-mockery behind those words. The way she was laughing at her own destruction. I could tell how much suffering was hiding behind every stroke of that pen. How much pain she was burying beneath that forced humor just so she wouldn’t lose her mind completely.

I looked back at Dorian. Black liquid was streaming down his face now. Matching the same tears that Mirena must have dropped on these very pages years ago.

Then the misery continued.

"Mother, I hope he hates me. I hope he despises me with everything he has. I hope my name makes him sick. I hope he runs so far that father’s reach can never find him."

Her words were getting more desperate with every line.

"Because that’s all I want now. Not his love. Not his forgiveness. Just his life. That’s enough for me. I want him to forget the past and live a new life. And I know he will manage. Because his purest soul will attract the people around him wherever he goes."

Silence. Complete and total silence.

Dorian was crying. His body gave up as he dropped to his knees. The diary was still in his hands but his eyes weren’t reading anymore. They were just staring at the ink through the black liquid pouring from them.

"What the hell have I done?"

His voice wasn’t demonic anymore. It was just a broken man’s voice. Raw and hollow.

I said. "Who said it was over? The real thing is about to come. How can you give up before that?"

I turned the page. He read while on his knees.

"Mother, I know it’s been quite a while since I talked to you. Maybe eight months? I am sorry, Mom. I wasn’t in a state to even talk. I was depressed. I wanted to end my life. I was living in a hollow shell because my world was taken away from me. And the one who took it forced me to marry."

I watched his grip tighten on the diary.

"But now, Mother, everything is falling into pieces back again. It feels like some part of my world has returned to me. It feels like some part of me wants to live again. Because your daughter has been blessed with a child."

His eyes went wide.

"And you know, Mother? She looks exactly like Dorian. Those same features. Those same lovely eyes. She is a carbon copy of her father."

Dorian’s hand moved to his chest. Pressed against it like something inside was either breaking or waking up. Whether demons had hearts or not wasn’t my concern. But one thing was certain. Both he and I knew. That child was his.

His mind would have been connecting the dates right now. The nights they spent together before the betrayal. The timeline that made it impossible for that child to be anyone else’s.

I turned to the last page of the diary.

"Mother, it’s the fifth birthday of your granddaughter Mariam. She is the new light of this household. Just like her father."

Dorian’s black tears were falling onto the page now. Mixing with the old stains Mirena had left years ago.

"I don’t know how she will react when she learns the truth. But I am sure she will understand, seeing the genius she holds even at this young age."

I read the final lines out loud for him because his eyes could no longer see through the tears.

"Mother, I will write about the celebration tonight. Till then, wait for me."

The diary ended there.

Because that night was the night Dorian came back.

And she never got to write again.