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Suicide.

Auteur: AthenaWrites
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-13 00:19:59

Calla's POV:

The spoon trembled slightly in my hand as I stirred the untouched porridge on my plate.

Breathe, Calla. Just breathe.

Across the table, Madden scrolled through his phone, his jaw ticking with tension like always. He hadn’t looked at me yet. Thank God.

My temples throbbed, my stomach coiled again, and I fought the urge to press a hand to it. The nausea had come and gone in waves all morning. I was woozy, barely grounded in my body. It felt wrong and right all at once. Alive, but not really here.

I kept my eyes down.

He couldn’t know.

Not yet.

Not when I wasn’t even sure myself. Not when the last time I had a child growing inside me, it was ripped from me by the woman who smiled in my face and slept in my bed like my friend.

Petra. I lost my baby to her– I'm still coming for her by the way. Well, once I handle the mess I'm in. Wouldn't it been easy if I was transmigrated into the body of someone else? Someone who's not regarded as vile or cruel??

I wouldn’t lose this one,
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  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Apologies.

    Hello everyone, I know I promised to update, but I had a lot going on, my exams, my sickness and it took a toll on my health. I'm grateful for the break as I was able to recover, get my head in the game and now I feel more refreshed. Steady updates will unfailingly begin on September. I'll drop a couple of chapters from next week. 🥺💞

  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Attention!!

    Hello readers.🥺I have been inconsistent with my book because of a slight illness I'm battling. So bear with me, as updates would resume next week. 💗

  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Her Choice.

    Charlotte’s POVThe doorbell rang just as I was pouring myself a second glass of wine—at noon.I paused, glass mid-air. The sound echoed through the stillness of the villa. No footsteps, no chaos. Just me, Meredith, and my regret trying to stay quiet in a house far too big. Because I'm too proud to go back. To her.Meredith beat me to the door, of course. Always did. She came back in with a box tucked under one arm and a bouquet of white gardenias in the other.“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” she said with a smirk, handing the flowers to me.I took them and rolled my eyes—too practiced, too polite—but the heat still crept up my neck as I buried my nose in the blooms.Nolan.He’d sent something every day this week.Monday: a box of pastries from that ridiculous Parisian bakery in Midtown.Tuesday: a new silk scarf with my initials embroidered into the corner.Wednesday: wine. A ridiculous bottle. One I once told him I liked… three years ago.And today—gardenias. My favorite. He

  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Trash.

    Calla’s POVIt's been long I saw these bitches. I got blocked everywhere and unfollowed after what I did to davina. And honestly, I wouldn't regret doing it again if I got the chance."Well, well,” Davina’s voice slithered, syrupy with venom, “I guess motherhood really does dull a woman’s edge.”I smiled, slowly.She stood there with Kassandra flanking her like a walking Gucci ad for insecurity. Amelia had retreated to her side, pouting. Naughty little rascal.“I beg your pardon?” I asked, my tone calm, even.Kassandra scoffed. “You used to be bold. Wild. Us. Now look at you—bending over to baby a brat who scraped her knee.”“She’s six,” I said flatly. “And she's more human than you’ve ever been.”Davina chuckled without humor. “Look at you. Playing mother to a man’s daughter like it makes you holy. You think Madden actually loves you now? You think being soft will save you?”I didn’t flinch. “No. But it’s saving her. And that’s enough.”Her smile faltered.“I should’ve known you wer

  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Mall Incident.

    Calla’s POV:It's been a week and a few days. Finally time to go home.The car rolled to a slow, deliberate stop before the Blackwell estate—grand, cold, and twice as suffocating as I remembered.Even now, after everything—the resort, Nyla’s death, the whisper of sickness curling in my gut—it was this house that made my skin crawl most. Not for its gothic shadows or its silence, but for what waited inside.Home, sweet hell.The chauffeur opened the door, and I stepped out into the biting wind, clutching my coat tighter around me. Behind me, Rhea and Margot emerged too—two of the resort villa’s staff who had since become my allies. I had to take them with me. I definitely didn't want to deal with Greta and her annoying words.“You sure this isn’t a prison?” Rhea muttered, eyeing the towering mansion. “Because damn. This place screams emotional damage.”I couldn’t help a smirk. “Trust me. You don’t know the half of it.”The massive doors creaked open and Greta stepped out. The longtime

  • BURIED AS HIS LOVE, REBORN AS HIS CURSE.    Suicide.

    Calla's POV:The spoon trembled slightly in my hand as I stirred the untouched porridge on my plate.Breathe, Calla. Just breathe. Across the table, Madden scrolled through his phone, his jaw ticking with tension like always. He hadn’t looked at me yet. Thank God.My temples throbbed, my stomach coiled again, and I fought the urge to press a hand to it. The nausea had come and gone in waves all morning. I was woozy, barely grounded in my body. It felt wrong and right all at once. Alive, but not really here.I kept my eyes down.He couldn’t know.Not yet.Not when I wasn’t even sure myself. Not when the last time I had a child growing inside me, it was ripped from me by the woman who smiled in my face and slept in my bed like my friend.Petra. I lost my baby to her– I'm still coming for her by the way. Well, once I handle the mess I'm in. Wouldn't it been easy if I was transmigrated into the body of someone else? Someone who's not regarded as vile or cruel??I wouldn’t lose this one,

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