Chapter 268 Back to Her
The news of Athena’s name on the victim list hit the media like a storm. Social media erupted in chaos, with people questioning the authenticity of the reports and searching for any signs of hope. But the Civil Aviation Administration’s confirmation seemed final—Athena had been on the plane that crashed in the deep sea, and there was no indication of survivors.
Byron was not prepared for this. The initial disbelief in his heart quickly morphed into a suffocating panic. He had seen the reports, he had heard the news, but he refused to accept it. Not Athena. Not her.
But the truth was undeniable. The plane had crashed, and the search and rescue operation had yielded nothing. No survivors, only wreckage and fragments of belongings. The world seemed to close in around him as he looked at the reports, unable to process what was happening.
The first few days were a blur. Byron had kept to himself, unable to focus on anything. The only thing that remained clear in his mind was Athena. He could still hear her voice, feel her presence beside him. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe that she was gone.
Freya, on the other hand, felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. Her plan had worked. Athena was out of the picture, and now, it seemed like nothing stood between her and Byron. She had carefully orchestrated this, knowing that Athena’s death would break Byron completely. The idea of his grief was almost too satisfying to her.
But even as the reports came in, Freya knew there was something not quite right. Byron’s reaction was too strong. He wasn’t just grieving; he was unraveling. And it wasn’t just because of the loss of Athena—it was because he knew, deep down, that Athena’s death had been tied to something darker, something he couldn’t quite understand. Freya could see the cracks forming in the façade Byron had built.
He wasn’t the same man he used to be, and neither was she.
As the days passed, Byron’s desperation grew. He contacted the Civil Aviation Administration, hired private investigators, and even made calls to people who might have had access to the flight logs. But nothing could bring Athena back, and the silence in his life became deafening.
Freya had thought she had won. She believed that the seat beside Byron was finally hers. But as she watched him spiral into the abyss, her satisfaction began to wane. There was a price to pay for what had happened—one that Freya hadn’t fully anticipated. Byron’s grief, his guilt, his absolute devotion to the memory of Athena, made it clear that he would never truly be hers. Not completely.
In the quiet moments, when Freya was alone with her thoughts, she began to feel a gnawing doubt. Had she pushed him too far? Had she broken him in a way that she could never fix?
It was clear that, despite everything she had done, Byron’s heart was still tethered to Athena. And no matter how much Freya tried to convince herself that Athena was gone for good, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t over yet.
As for Byron, the days after the crash felt like an endless loop of torment. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw Athena’s face—her smile, her gentle presence. He couldn’t let go of her. He couldn’t believe she was truly gone.
And that belief—the refusal to accept her death—began to consume him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to live with the knowledge that he had failed her when she needed him the most?
The questions haunted him, and though the world around him tried to move on, Byron was frozen in a moment of unbearable grief. The crash might have taken Athena from him physically, but it hadn’t taken her from his heart. And it never would.