My brother died in a car accident three years ago, and his passing devastated my parents.
My father was even unable to continue managing the company for a time.
My best friend Aria Perry helped my father walk in, her eyes red as she said to me, "Nyla, you're not alone. You still have us! Your brother is gone, but if you leave us too, I'll never forgive you!"
Looking at my parents' graying hair and my husband's pained expression, I gave up on the idea of suicide.
But my temper grew worse and worse.
If my husband did anything I didn't like, I would angrily throw things and slam doors.
But he patiently soothed me, never complaining, even when I hurt him.
When Aria came to visit and saw this, she would gently reprimand me for treating my loved ones so poorly.
But whenever I thought of how I was ruined, while she was still a piano teacher managing my studio, I felt jealous.
I envied her long fingers and that she could still chase her dreams; I envied her sitting gracefully at the piano, playing beautiful music!
My parents carefully looked after me, and my husband watched me with exhausted eyes.
But Aria couldn't take my harshness anymore and ended up crying in frustration.
If my brother hadn't passed away early, Aria would have almost married him.
My parents pitied her too, but they didn't dare touch my wounded heart.
I didn't know what was wrong with me; my temper was like an uncontrolled flood, surging out.
I only felt that by hurting those around me every day, I could prove that they still loved me.
After nearly a month of this self-torment, I suggested to my husband that we go to the island where we honeymooned to relax.
I'd always loved the sea.
Three years ago, on the beach, I accepted Charlie's proposal.
I wanted to return to the sea, hoping to rekindle the romantic memories we once had.
I had been too depressed and irritable during this time, unknowingly hurting the people closest to me.
That unexpected car accident ruined me, but it had nothing to do with my family—how could I vent my anger on them?
While watching the sea with Charlie, I tried to let go of my resentment and embrace a new life.
But how could that be easy? I still endured each day in agony.
Until tonight, when I received that mysterious call.
After waking up, Charlie was outside preparing breakfast for me. I picked up my phone and called back.
The same woman answered again.