LOGINShare
87. The Dying Man
publish date:
2026-11-02 19:33:45
Latest chapter
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 90. The Crown
The studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city far below the floor to ceiling windows. It was early morning. The sun was just beginning to peek over the skyline, painting the glass towers in shades of pale gold and soft pink. I was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by the ghosts of my past. But they were not haunting me anymore. They were hanging on the racks, waiting to be seen. I walked down the line of mannequins. My fingers brushed against the fabrics. Silk. Velvet. Leather. Each piece was a chapter of my life. Each piece had a name. I stopped in front of the first mannequin. It was a stark white gown, fragile and thin, with a high collar that looked like it was choking the wearer. I had named it Six Months. It was the dress I wore when I was diagnosed. It was the dress of a dead woman walking. I moved to the next one. A black silk dress with a stained apron over it. The fabric of the apron was rough and cheap, a stark contrast to the luxurious silk beneat
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 89. The Cherry Tree
The tires of the black town car crunched against the gravel as I pulled off the main road. I did not tell Adrian where I was going. I did not tell Chloe. I just drove. The old Sterling estate was a forgotten memory, a sprawling patch of overgrown land hidden deep in the woods an hour outside the city. The iron gates were rusted open, covered in thick ivy. I drove down the long, unpaved driveway. The trees on either side were wild and untamed, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still a heavy, bruised grey. I parked the car in front of the ruins. The main house had burned down years ago, leaving nothing but a blackened stone foundation. It was the place where my family was supposed to live. It was the place where I was supposed to grow up. And it was the place where I was taken. I stepped out of the car. The cold wind whipped through my black dress. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. I walked past the ruins of the house, my
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 88. The Funeral
He died three days after the rain.I was sitting in my studio when my phone rang. The charcoal pencil in my hand hovered over a fresh sheet of paper. I was sketching a new design, a gown made of pale grey silk, something soft and quiet. The screen lit up with Chloe's name. I knew before I even answered. I could feel it in the heavy, suffocating silence of the room.I picked up the phone and put it to my ear."Mom," Chloe whispered. Her voice was thick with tears. "He is gone."I felt nothing at first. It was a vast, hollow emptiness. It was as if someone had reached inside my chest and scooped out everything that had ever made me human. The man who had given me a daughter. The man who had held me in a tiny apartment and promised me the world. The man who had watched his mother poison me. The man who had let me die. He was gone.Then, the wave hit me. It was not grief for the man he had become. It was grief for the man he could have been. It was grief for the young woman I used to be.
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 87. The Dying Man
I never answered his message. I had stared at the words on the screen for an hour. I know. I have always known. I am sorry. Goodbye, Zara. I had typed out a dozen replies. I had called him a liar. I had told him he deserved to rot. I had told him I hoped he died alone. But I had deleted every single one. I did not know what to say. And now, I never would. The rain scene was three days ago. Chloe had called me in a panic that morning. The exposure to the freezing rain had pushed his failing body over the edge. His lungs had filled with fluid. His organs were shutting down. He was in the ICU at Mercy General Hospital, hooked up to a ventilator, surrounded by beeping machines. Chloe had begged me to come. She said he was asking for me. She said he was terrified. So I went. The hospital was sterile and cold. The smell of antiseptic burned my nose. I walked past the nurses station, past the waiting room filled with anxious families, and into the private ICU room at the end of the hall
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 86. The Rain
The rain was a relentless, hammering force against the floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse. It was the kind of storm that turned the city into a blur of neon and shadow. I was standing in the dark living room, my forehead pressed against the cold glass. I had been standing there for twenty minutes. My hands were wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold.I knew he was coming.Chloe had called me three hours ago. She had been crying. She told me Nathan had demanded her phone. He had demanded my address. He was weak, she said, barely able to stand, but he was furious. He was desperate. He wanted to see me.I had told Chloe not to give it to him. But I knew he would find a way. Nathan Vance was a dying man with nothing left to lose. And desperate men did desperate things.The black town car pulled up to the curb below. It moved slowly, its headlights cutting through the sheets of rain. It stopped directly in front of the building entrance.I did not move. I just watched.
THE DYING WIFE'S REVENGE 85. The Decision
The wind on the penthouse balcony was sharp enough to cut glass. I was sitting on a wrought iron chair, wrapped in a heavy black coat, staring at the dark silhouette of the city skyline. The rain had stopped, but the air was damp and heavy, promising another storm before the night was over.I reached into my left pocket. My fingers brushed against the velvet box. Adrian's ring. It was a promise of a future I was terrified to reach for. Then I reached into my right pocket. My fingers brushed against the folded, worn paper. The sketch Nathan had hidden in his desk. A reminder of a past I could not escape.I was caught between two men. One who had broken me, and one who was trying to put me back together. And the man who had broken me was dying.I pulled out my phone. I opened my notes app. I had written three versions of what I wanted to say to Nathan. I had been writing them for the last hour, trying to figure out what my last words to him should be.The first version was cruel. It was
You May Also Like
Watch Out, CEO Daddy!
Wine Warms The Flowers1.4M viewsMy Bestfriend's Brother Shouldn't Know How I Taste
Demiah13655.9K viewsChasing My Pregnant Wife
Night Revelations983.2K viewsHer Graceful War Song
Summer's Blaze995.2K viewsBefore I was Marie ( A dead woman’s promise)
Erominds 108 viewsThe Web
Royaldammy 100 viewsNow You Want me Back Step Brother
Laurent44 viewsRise Of The Forgotten Queen
Dau77 views
