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Her Last Chance.
Last Updated:
2025-03-11 02:38:49
Kavira Hiraeth Cassandra's back… but can she be trusted? What do you think?
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The Cure Is you Still His Wife.
°SERENA° I heard his footsteps before his voice. "Serena, come out." I yanked the blanket over my head. Nope. Not happening. After the way he had practically told me I was nothing, why did he suddenly have time for me? "I don’t want to," I muttered, staring at the ceiling. My voice sounded flat, drained. Good. Maybe he’d take the hint and walk away. Silence. For a moment, I thought—finally, some peace. But then— "Come out and eat." Oh. Now he cared if I ate? A laugh almost slipped out, but I swallowed it down. How convenient. Where was this sudden concern when he decided to let his ex move into our house? "Why don’t you call your fiancée?" I snapped. Petty? Maybe. Deserved? Absolutely. A pause. Then, his voice, calm as ever, like I hadn’t just thrown a knife at him: "She isn’t my fiancée." Oh, right. "Your lover, then." "No." Liar. "So why do you still remember me, then?" The words just... slipped out. And the second they did, I wished I could s
Last Updated : 2025-03-11The Cure Is you Back Together.
°ADRIAN° The morning felt off. Heavy. Like the house itself was suffocating under an unspoken tension. Serena was silent. No rushed footsteps. No clinking dishes. No sarcastic remarks thrown my way. Just an unsettling stillness. She wasn’t pouting. Not exactly. But she was doing that thing—pretending she didn’t care when, in reality, it was all she could think about. And I knew why. The way she had staked her claim at dinner last night. It would have been amusing. If only it didn’t irritate me just as much. She knew. She knew Cassandra meant nothing to me. So why was she acting like this? "Shall we go?" I asked as she slipped on her shoes. Serena barely spared me a glance. "You're coming with me?" "Yeah. I'll drop you off and then continue." Since Timothy was supposed to drive her, I figured I’d join anyway. "Your wish," she muttered, turning away. We stepped out. The early morning air was crisp, but it did nothing to cut through the tension between us. Out
Last Updated : 2025-03-12The Cure Is you Locked Out.
°SERENA° Evening had settled in, and Tim barely waited for me to shut the door before speeding off. I really needed to talk to Adrian about this. Earlier, it was fine—Tim wasn’t going anywhere. But now? He was driving over half an hour just to drop me off. Yeah, no. That’s weird. Too weird. I sighed. There was already too much I had to talk to Adrian about. "I will tell you when the time is right." What does that even mean? Right for whom? Because for me, the right time was yesterday. Actually, scratch that—the right time was the exact second he decided to keep something from me. Annoyed, I shook my head and twisted the key into the lock—only for it to stop halfway. Locked. From the inside. What the—? Confusion hit first. Then irritation. And then? Full-blown, what-the-actual-hell kind of anger. Why would she lock the door? That show-off woman—who does she think she is? Queen of the house? Because I have news for her: that title belongs to me. Grinding my teet
Last Updated : 2025-03-13The Cure Is you A Son.
°ADRIAN° “I mean, she has her quirks, Serena. You’re overreacting.” Her eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face. “Overreacting?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Then how did you mean it?” she snapped. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re excusing her. Again.” I clenched my jaw. “I’m not excusing anyone. Cassandra’s always been like this—she acts first, thinks later. It’s not personal.” Serena let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Not personal?” she echoed. “Right. Of course. I’m the one making a big deal out of nothing.” I knew exactly where this argument was going—her walking away, shutting me out. I wasn’t letting that happen. “Come with me.” My voice was firm as I caught her wrist, my grip unyielding but not forceful. “Adrian—” “Kitchen. Now.” She didn’t resist, but her reluctance was clear. The moment we stepped inside, I let go. She leaned aga
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°CASSANDRA° "I am trying! What the hell else do you want me to do?" I snapped into the phone, my voice raw, cracking under the weight of my frustration. My fingers dug into my palm, my nails biting deep enough to leave crescent-shaped wounds. "Try harder," the voice on the other end spat, cold and merciless. "Or do you need another reminder of what’s at stake?" A chill crawled down my spine, its icy fingers wrapping around my throat. My breath hitched. "Don't," I whispered, my voice barely a sound. "Then do as you're told." I shut my eyes, shaking my head violently. "She won’t believe me! No matter what I say, no matter how much I push her, she won’t believe me!" My voice cracked, a raw wound splitting open. "She’s too damn blind, too lost in him!" "Then make her see." Their tone was slow, deliberate, cruel. "Unless, of course, you’d rather have me remind your son why his mother can’t protect him." Everything inside me stilled. My stomach twisted so violently I though
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°SERENA° I stood frozen in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest as Adrian's words echoed relentlessly in my head. "I will bring him back, even if everything's at stake." His promise to Cassandra wasn’t just a promise—it was a declaration. But who was he talking about? Why did it feel like the ground beneath my feet had just cracked open? Who could he possibly be talking about? I didn’t know what to do with this new piece of information. Part of me wanted to march up to Adrian, demand answers right there, but... well, that had never exactly gone well before. I mean, really, I should’ve learned by now that being impulsive wasn’t going to get me anywhere. But still, the thought of confronting him lingered in my mind like a bad idea I couldn't quite shake off. Even if I asked him now, he would just say, 'I’ll tell you when the time is right,' and I’d fall for it every time, only to feel empty again. But if I truly mattered to him, wouldn’t he tell me? Wouldn’t he
Last Updated : 2025-03-16The Cure Is you A Solid Proof.
°ADRIAN° I left the house early in the morning. I don’t know what else to do. Two days ago, my life was exactly as I planned. Now, out of nowhere, everything is spiraling out of control. I have a son. A damn son. One I had no idea about. And the worst part? I don’t even know where he is. Cassandra didn’t give me much—just dropped the bombshell and handed me a worn-out photo. An old, faded image of a boy who’s supposed to be mine. Her words still echo in my head, taunting me, daring me to unravel the truth. I promised her I’d bring him back. But how? How does any of this work? What will Serena feel when she finds out? Will she accept him? I inhale sharply, running a hand through my hair. Fuck, I have no idea. Right then, my phone buzzes. Fred’s name flashes on the screen. He’s the one tracking the kid since I dropped the news on them last night. He’s good—one of the best. And it helps that Cassandra was careless enough to apply here. We already had enough i
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°ADRIAN° "Where did she go?" I snapped, my patience hanging by a thread. Cassandra shrugged, crossing her arms. "How would I know?" I clenched my jaw, my fingers twitching to grip something—anything—to keep from losing control. The walls of my apartment felt too tight, too suffocating. The weight in my chest threatened to crush me. What the fuck is happening here? Serena was supposed to be here. She was supposed to be safe. Timothy. Without another thought, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring. "Where’s Serena?" I thundered, my grip on the phone tightening. Timothy hesitated for a second before answering, confusion lacing his voice. "I dropped ma’am off at the apartment, sir." "Well, guess what? She’s not here." Silence. Then a sharp inhale. "That’s impossible. I dropped her off myself." "Then where is she?" My voice came out sharper than intended, but I didn’t care. A sinking feeling twisted in my gut. "I’ll check her lo
Last Updated : 2025-03-17
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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 mo
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 on
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
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°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
