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Epilogue 2
Last Updated:
2025-05-08 21:49:24
Kavira Hiraeth what do you think guys? 🩷 or 🩵
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The Cure Is you A wedding without groom.
°SERENA° I waited and waited, even fate laughing at me, my supposed groom still didn't arrive. "Now, a final call to Mr. Adrian Royce to come forth," the priest announced. Silence. No one stepped forward. I stood there, head bowed, a bouquet trembling in my hands. Scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces, my eyes landed on my father. His cold, icy gaze met mine, devoid of even the slightest concern for his daughter—who had just been stood up at the altar. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder until someone approached the priest, whispering something in his ear. The priest nodded, then held out a ring to me. "With the power vested in me," he declared, his voice carrying a tinge of pity, "I now pronounce Adrian Royce and Serena Cooper husband and wife." And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in a veil of humiliation. Guests began to disperse, their eyes casting fleeting glances of pity—or judgment. I spotted my father preparing to leave and ru
Last Updated : 2024-12-10The Cure Is you An agreement
°SERENA° “Who let you in?” The words hit me like a physical blow, freezing me in place. My heart raced, and each syllable of the voice reverberated through the room, laced with authority and disdain. I turned slowly, my breath caught in my throat. Standing at the base of the grand staircase was a man, his towering figure shrouded in shadows. His dark suit only amplified his presence, and though his face remained obscured, his voice alone sent a chill down my spine. "I—I’m Serena Cooper," I stammered, my voice trembling. "Adrian’s..." My words faltered. Wife? Was I really his wife? “Ah, the new bride,” he sneered, his voice thick with mockery. “Welcome to your new home.” Though his words were polite, the ice behind them made my skin crawl. I gripped the folds of my gown tightly, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Where is Adrian?” I asked, barely above a whisper. The man’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, turning on his heel. “
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°ADRIAN° "What's in it for me, Mr. Royce?" she asked, her voice laced with audacity. I should have expected this. What else could a gold digger care about if not money? Looking at her only fueled my disgust. Red lipstick smeared into a garish alarm, eyeliner smudged like a child’s careless doodle—she looked utterly ridiculous, like a raccoon. "You're Mrs. Royce. Isn't that enough to satisfy you?" "No," she replied, her tone unwavering. Unbelievable. This woman’s greed knew no bounds. "Name your price," I said, suppressing a sigh. If this arrangement could heal my legs, I’d consider it a necessary evil, no matter the cost. "I want to be admitted to medical school." What? I stared at her. "Aren't you too old to be attending school?" "I'm 18!" Eighteen. The absurdity of it hit me like a slap. Evelyn. I clenched my fists, wanting to wring her neck desperately. "Fine. Get your documents ready," I said flatly. Her face lit up as if I’d handed her the keys to
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°SERENA° I’ve told the officer a hundred times already, but he refuses to listen. And that salesgirl’s smug smile? It’s driving me insane.If only the officer would hear me out, I’d wipe that grin off her face. But now, I’m a little scared. When he asked for the cardholder’s number, I gave Adrian’s. What if he refused to come? Worse, what if he tells them to lock me up? No, Adrian still needs me—for his treatment. A sleek Rolls Royce pulled up right in front of the store right then, its polished surface gleaming under the shop’s lights. My breath hitched—I expected Adrian to step out. Instead, it was Tim. Seeing him, the officer broke into a cold sweat. He quickly approached Tim, but Tim ignored him and walked straight toward me. “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked, his tone gentle. I blinked in confusion, but nodded anyway. “Sir,” the officer stammered. “How come you are here? When she—Madam—gave me the name, I thought it was some random guy. I didn’t expect it to be
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°SERENA° The phone screen lit up suddenly, and my hands trembled as I reached for it. "Don’t make a scene next time you’re going out." — Adrian. This heartless guy! Relief washed over me that it was him, but seriously, could he not text more humanely? Wait—how does he even know what happened? Of course, I should have guessed. I did see the bluetooth on Tim's ear. So Adrian really listened to what happened. Still, I’m not going to reply to you, Adrian Royce. Clutching my phone, I fell back onto my bed. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was someone else, but thank God it wasn him. The next morning, I woke up early, a little giddy—it was my first day of college. Excitement bubbled in my chest as I stepped out. When I arrived, the campus was magnificent—tall buildings surrounded by bustling students in white coats. Soon, I’d be one of them! Right then, my stomach growled, loud and demanding. I hadn’t eaten since leaving his villa—an hour-and-a-half-long drive. I
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°ADRIAN° "Why didn’t you respond to my text?" I asked, gripping her wrist firmly. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing at the hold I had on her. I felt the tension in her slender wrist, though she didn’t pull away. Not yet. "And why were you prying on me?" she shot back, her voice sharp, unapologetic. "I asked first," I said evenly, my grip unwavering. Her defiance was beginning to irritate me, though I couldn’t deny it intrigued me too. She tilted her head, her dark eyes scanning my face like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "I was angry that you pried at me," she finally admitted, her voice softer but still edged with defiance. Was that the truth? I couldn’t tell. But I let it slide—for now. "And you?" she pressed, her gaze locking with mine, refusing to let the conversation die. "Just making sure you were alive," I replied dryly, releasing her wrist. The moment I let go, she stepped back, creating space between us. But her eyes remained locked on mine, th
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°SERENA° “You’re a piece of work,” he said, almost to himself. I snorted softly, shaking my head as I packed up my equipment. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” I bet that would be the most appreciation he would have ever given. Heartless guy. He didn’t respond, and I took that as my cue to leave. But as I turned toward the door, his voice stopped me. “Why did you agree to this? To us?” The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated, my hand on the doorframe. Was he genuinely asking this question, or was this one of his attempts to mock me? “Why does it matter?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “It matters,” he said, and there was something in his tone—something I couldn’t quite place. I turned to face him, meeting his gaze once more. And he looked really genuine, making my heart skip a beat. Does he really care? “Maybe because I had no other choice. Or maybe because I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive this too.” His eyes narrowed sli
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°SERENA° I looked at him, fear flashing in my eyes. Adrian sat in his wheelchair, positioned between the two massive couches like a king on a throne. Tim stood beside him, his head low, shoulders tense. Did he do something? I didn’t have long to wonder. Adrian repeated his question, this time his voice dangerously low, sharp enough to cut through the air. “Why do you need that?” God! Help me. “W-what?” I managed to stammer. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tossed an iPad onto the table with a sharp thud. The sound made me flinch. What if it broke? Does he have any value for things? He doesn't even value humans, Serena. An icy glare from him brought me back to reality. I tiptoed closer to the table, cautiously picking up the device. The tension in the room was suffocating. What had gotten under his skin this time? Disrespecting was his second nature, but what had I done to provoke it? I glanced at the lit screen, and my eyes widened. My breath caught in my thr
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The Cure Is you Epilogue 2
°SERENA° I stood just behind the garden door—the one that no longer led to the lush garden I had once spent countless hours tending to, but now, it led to an aisle. A simple, beautiful aisle, lined with soft petals and fairy lights that twinkled like stars. The garden, once my sanctuary, had transformed into a sacred space of joy, love, and promises. My fingers trembled as they brushed against the delicate lace of my dress—my wedding dress. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was mine. Custom-made just for me: ivory with soft lilac undertones that shimmered faintly in the light, as though the fabric itself carried a secret, a promise of something more. The bodice hugged me like a whispered vow, soft but firm, as if it knew my every movement. The skirt flowed out, like petals unfurling, graceful and simple but enchanted in its own way. A soft breeze stirred through the air, carrying with it the scent of lilies—the very flowers that adorned the garden—and something sweeter, something
The Cure Is you Epilogue 1
°SERENA° THREE YEARS LATER I didn’t believe it—not fully—until the dean handed me that scroll and said my name into the microphone. Even as the applause roared and my classmates screamed like they'd just broken out of a decade-long prison sentence, I stood there frozen, blinking under the stage lights like it was all a dream I wasn’t ready to wake up from. But then I looked down. At the degree in my hands. Doctor Serena Cooper. The paper felt too light for the weight it carried. Too soft for everything I’d fought through to hold it. My chest tightened. My throat burned. And suddenly, it was real. I did it. I’m a doctor. And yet, even as the words circled in my head, they felt borrowed—like they belonged to someone braver, someone more brilliant. For a split second, doubt curled its fingers around my spine. Was this really mine? Had I really crossed the finish line after all those nights that bled into mornings, the silent breakdowns in library corners, the battles no o
The Cure Is you A Promise Fulfilled.
°SERENA° I woke up cold. The sheets beside me, usually warm with Adrian’s lingering body heat, were cool and untouched. The silence around me wasn’t peaceful—it was eerie. No hum of life, no soft rustle of fabric, no faint breathing beside mine. Just an expanse of quiet that made me sit up, instantly alert. The curtains swayed gently with the early morning breeze, letting golden slivers of sunlight fall across the marble floors. Outside, birds chirped faintly, as if the world was trying to act normal. But inside the villa? It felt like time had stilled. Adrian was always here on weekends. Whether he woke before me or not, he stayed close. He’d wait for me, make a sarcastic remark about how long I slept, or sometimes pull me back under the covers with a teasing, "Five more minutes, sweetheart." But today… there was none of that. I slid out of bed, my toes curling against the cold marble. I reached for my robe and wrapped it tight, the plush fabric brushing softly against my sk
The Cure Is you Nolan Hayes.
°ADRIAN° I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Yet here I am—standing in front of an apartment door in New York, fingers hovering over the bell like it's wired to blow. The city hums behind me: impatient taxis blur past, a siren wails faintly in the distance, someone barks into their phone from across the street. Life moves forward, fast and messy. But me? I’m frozen in this one breath, caught between regret and redemption. It’s been a week since the dust began to settle. Since the sirens quieted, the courtrooms emptied, and the scars—both the kind that throb beneath my skin and the ones no X-ray can catch—began to scab over. Evelyn lost it when she learned about Victor’s death. She screamed. Threw accusations like knives—mostly at Serena. But Fred pulled the video off my phone, and the forensics backed it. Evelyn had to face the cold, hard truth. Serena didn’t kill him. And she had only herself to blame. On sentencing day, Timothy limped into the courtroom—bruised, battered, but brea
The Cure Is you Meant to be.
°SERENA° I think I’m waking up. Or maybe not. It’s weird. Everything feels... distant. Like I’m stuck underwater, and the world’s still moving above but I can't reach it yet. My arms weigh a ton. My chest hurts. My throat’s dry. Something beeps near my ear like it owns the damn place. There’s a voice. Low. Familiar. My heart kicks — slow and out of rhythm. God. That voice. Adrian? I can’t move. I can’t see. But I feel something… warm. Pressure on my hand. Soft. He’s here. Why? "I thought if I kept you away…” It’s his voice, yeah. Just—cracked at the edges, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. “…you’d be safe…” I tried to move, to reach — but nothing obeyed. Still, the voice kept going, as if speaking to the space between us. “I love you so much it… it fucking terrifies me.” Something in me cracks. Because I knew. I always knew. He just couldn’t say it before. God. You’re a heartless fool, Adrian. And I’m the idiot who still wants to hold your hand. I
The Cure Is you Terrifying Love.
°ADRIAN° “Serena!” Her body crumpled to the ground like a lifeless doll, a soft thud that shattered the world around me. Panic tore through me — raw, blinding. Was she shot? Was she— “Fuck!” I dropped to my knees, gravel biting into my palms as I scooped her limp form into my arms. Her skin was cold, too cold, her head lolling helplessly against me. I patted her cheeks, desperate, frantic. “Serena. Serena—” No response. Not even a twitch. Blood roared in my ears, drowning everything else. "Fred!" I twisted around, searching— There. Staggering toward me, blood soaking the cloth wrapped around his hand. “What the fuck happened to you?” I barked, clutching Serena tighter. He pressed a shaking hand to his side, blood slick between his fingers. A breathless, humorless laugh escaped him. “Your little wife,” he rasped. My heart lurched. I turned — Cassandra. Lying there. Still. Lifeless. A fresh wave of horror slammed into me. She saved us. She didn
The Cure Is you Her Last Breath.
°SERENA° I was pushed aside suddenly, my body jerked violently into some kind of wall… The sound of the gunshot still rang in my ears, sharp and disorienting. My vision blurred for a second. My body throbbed where I’d hit the wall — my shoulder scraped raw against the stone. Voices were shouting, echoing, overlapping — but I couldn’t make out any of it. My hands scrambled against the floor to push myself up. Dust clung to my fingers. My heart was slamming against my ribs. And then I saw her. Cassandra. She stood just a few feet away — or was she swaying? Her hands were pressed to her abdomen, but blood was already seeping fast through her fingers, thick and dark, running down her arms, staining the hem of her top. Her breathing was ragged. No. No, no. “What the hell—” I whispered, barely able to move. She had stepped between us and Victor. She’d taken the bullet. “Cassandra!” “Cassandra!” Fred and I shouted at the same time. The panic in his voice mirrored mine
The Cure Is you Locked.
°SERENA° “SERENA!” Cassandra’s scream rang through the cold stone halls, but before I could answer, rough fingers latched onto my arm—tight, urgent. I knew from the grip, from the sheer force, that it was a man. Instinct took over. I clenched the small knife she’d slipped into my hand earlier, spun, and slashed hard. My blade met flesh, and a choked gasp followed. Warm blood sprayed across my skin. A vein. I’d aimed for it. This would weaken Victor. It had to. We needed just enough time— “Ah… Serena!” That voice. My heart skipped and I turned sharply, breath caught in my throat. “Fred?” I gasped. His eyes were wide with pain, his hand clutched tight, blood flowing between his fingers like a river he couldn’t stop. My stomach dropped. Shit. What have I done? “Shit! Why did you grab me?” I was at his side before I finished speaking, panic clawing at my throat. He winced, and I didn’t wait—I tore a strip from my shirt, the fabric protesting with each tug. My f
The Cure Is you An Escape.
°SERENA° Victor didn’t respond to my insult. Not with words. Just his eyes—sharp as shattered ice, cold as steel, burning with fury. He stared at me like I was the last stain on his empire, and he was ready to scrub me off the face of the world. But only if staring could kill. “I’ll let you think about obedience,” he muttered, snatching up his phone. “Maybe the next time I walk through that door, you’ll have learned your place.” He turned. Walked. The door creaked—slow, deliberate. Then slammed. The sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. And then, silence. Not peace. Never peace. But a tense, eerie quiet clung to the air like smoke after a blaze—thick, choking, haunted. Still, for the first time since I was dragged into this nightmare, I wasn’t afraid of the silence. I welcomed it. I exhaled—slow, shaky. My lungs trembled like they were just relearning how to breathe, my chest sore as if someone had punched the life out of me and left behind an ache n
