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Every day, I came home from work to a hot meal and my parents fussing over me, eager to hear about my day.Life was quiet and warm, and for a while, I enjoyed its simple comforts.Except sometimes, when I walked down the street, I would suddenly feel someone's eyes on me. But whenever I turned around, there was no one there.That evening, as I walked home from work, I felt that familiar gaze again.I continued for a short distance before I stopped and spoke without turning around. "Come out. There's no point following me."A figure emerged from behind a tree. It was Cecelia.She had grown thin, and her face was pale and drawn. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and called out, "Wes."I corrected her in an even voice. "My name is Bryan Driscoll."She faltered before she forced herself to use my name. "Bryan."She had barely spoken before tears began streaming down her face.In the past, the sight of her tears would have sent me into a panic. My chest would have ached, and I
The Wesley Cecelia had known was gone.As that realization sank in, Cecelia collapsed to the ground. Her legs gave out beneath her, and tears streamed down her face.Wesley regarded her with irritation. "What are you crying for? Don't think I won't hit a woman. I still haven't settled the score for those lashes you gave me."He drew back his fist as if he intended to strike her.Cecelia made no attempt to dodge. His fist stopped barely an inch from her face.He withdrew his hand and let out a short, dismissive laugh. "Forget it. For the sake of that idiot you took in all those years ago, I'll let this one go."He pulled out the divorce papers again and tossed them in front of her. "Sign it."This time, Cecelia did not refuse.Later, she could not remember how she had made it out of the warehouse.Harold's howls and desperate cries for help echoed behind her, but she kept walking as if she could hear nothing. She felt utterly hollow inside.The sky was dark, and a bitter wind
Whenever Cecelia came home exhausted from work, Wesley would put on a movie for her on the tablet and softly narrate the plot to help her unwind.Cecelia crouched in front of the coffee table and brushed her fingers lightly over the tablet.The screen lit up, and a message from Harold, synced from Wesley's phone, appeared.The timestamp showed that it had arrived just after 10:00 p.m. that night, the same night as Wesley's accident.Cecelia stared at the photo Harold had sent and the taunting message beneath it.Suddenly, everything made sense. Wesley had spent the entire evening with her father, perfectly content and at ease. Why would he have left the house after ten o'clock, only to get hit by a car?He must have seen Harold's message. Overwhelmed by emotion, he had rushed out to find her without paying attention to his surroundings.That was it. That was why he had been hit.The moment she realized the truth, Cecelia wanted Harold dead. If not for him, Wesley would never ha
It was an expression Wesley had never worn around her before. Something about it struck Cecelia as wrong, though she could not quite explain why.She suppressed her unease and walked into the room.They spoke almost simultaneously."Wes, I need to tell you something…""I have something to say."Her voice was urgent, while his sounded lazy, with a careless edge she had never heard from him before.His parents exchanged a glance and left the room without being asked, giving the two of them some privacy.Wesley raised an eyebrow at her. "Ladies first."Cecelia clasped her hands together and approached his bedside. Once she began, the words came rushing out.She told him everything.She explained how Harold had deceived her overseas all those years ago, how she had returned home determined to make him pay, and how she had lured him back into the country. Every time she had openly favored Harold, it had all been an act.She spoke rapidly, her eyes red with emotion.She had expec
"Ms. Marquand, it's done! The project went through!"Harold overheard the news, and his eyes lit up instantly. "My project?"Cecelia nodded.He could no longer contain his excitement. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the door. "Let's go sign the contract right now! Cece, this is incredible. I knew I could always count on you!"As she watched him practically trip over himself with excitement, Cecelia smiled coldly to herself.He had walked straight into the trap without her having to coax him. That saved her the trouble.She offered no resistance and accompanied him to the company.…By the time they had signed the contract, completed all the necessary procedures, and checked every detail, it was already past 10:00 p.m. that night.Cecelia held the signed contract between her fingers, its paper still warm against her skin.Harold was finished. She could finally return to Wesley.On the drive home, still flushed with excitement, she received an unexpected phone call.
"Cecelia? Who could genuinely like her? I was only ever nice to her because of the Marquand family's wealth and influence. Now that she's cut ties with her family, what use is she to me?"Harold's friend had replied, "Well, that's not entirely fair. Weren't you planning to use her to secure that project?"Cecelia had felt as though she'd been plunged into ice water.That was when she finally understood. Every kindness Harold had ever shown her had been calculated. He had only been using her, treating her feelings like a game.The wind had been bitterly cold that day, and Cecelia had stood outside the door, frozen to the bone.It was also the day she suddenly found herself missing Wesley with a desperation she had never felt before.She remembered the moment the whip came down, how Wesley had pulled her into his arms and shielded her with his own body. She could still recall the warmth of his chest against her.Only then, far too late, did she finally understand.The boy who had







