Scars Of A Broken Bond by Calv Momose

Sabrina, however, lifted her gaze to meet his, her lips tightly pursed, an unwavering silence her chosen response.
The standoff between them intensified, casting an ominous shadow over the atmosphere.
“What’s going on here?™
A sudden interruption shattered the impasse. A voice, originating from a nearby vicinity, pierced through the tension.
ALL heads swiveled in unison toward the source of the sound.
Kody arched an eyebrow and inquired, “Who might you be?”
Sabrina, momentarily caught off guard, experienced a spark of recognition. Her eyes lit up and she exclaimed, “Tyrone!”
In an instant, her prior antipathy toward Tyrone dissipated, replaced by a sense of relief and gratitude that he had arrived in the
nick of time.
Kody regarded the newcomer with a prolonged, assessing gaze, eventually breaking into a placating smile as he spoke.
“Could you be Tyrone Blakely, the esteemed president of the Blakely Group? It is an absolute honor to cross paths with you in
this establishment.”
Yet the man remained silent, neither confirming nor denying the accusation. His gaze, ice-cold and unyielding, bore into Kody as
he delivered his command, “Get out of here. Hurry u|
A fleeting transformation swept across the countenance of Kody, his initial urge to retort ultimately yielding to restraint. With an
air of compliance, he yielded, remarking, “Very well, I shall take my leave. Mr. Blakely, the course of action is yours to
determine.”
As they exited the establishment, the other two men couldn’t help but express their curiosity to Kody, “Was that truly Tyrone?”
Kody contemplated for a moment before affirming, “I believe it was him.” “Indeed, he bore a resemblance but not an exact one.
He seemed somewhat different from the man in the news,” one of them remarked.
Kody elucidated, “The images in the media have likely undergone some manipulation. The woman is his former wife, Sabrina. As
for that man, there’s no doubt.”

“His identity is inconsequential. Anyway, we got the money.”
The trio left, leaving Sabrina exhaling a sigh of relief. She squinted her eyes and smiled, directing her gratitude toward the man,
“Tyrone, I must thank you for your timely arrival. You’re forgiven for a few minutes.” The man approached, taking a seat opposite
Sabrina, his demeanor earnest as he posed a question, “Do you know who I am?”
In the brief pause that ensued, Sabrina blinked, a hint of incredulity tinging her voice, “Tyrone, have you lost your senses?”
Blayze remained silent, his heart heavy with the realization that
Sabrina’s recognition of him as Tyrone had been a product of her inebriation.
Lowering his head, his eyes cloaked in shadows, Blayze grappled with the weight of the truth.
During Sabrina’s time abroad, an undeniable affection blossomed within Blayze, for he wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths
to look after her otherwise.
Sabrina was keenly aware of his passion for photography, and Blayze had noticed her latent talent in that realm. He even
extended an invitation, asking her if she’d be interested in delving into the art of photography but she politely declined.
However, as time went by, Sabrina had inexplicably distanced herself from him and eventually moved away from the apartment
he had introduced her to. In the aftermath, Sabrina had returned to her homeland, erasing all traces of their connection. Their
communication then had come to an abrupt halt. The depth of his affection had been insufficient to entice him to follow her and
gradually, the memory of her began to fade.