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Between Life and Death.
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-07-18 07:32:25
Bab terbaru
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The First Day of Class.
~ Ivy ~I clutched my black sketchbook against my chest so hard my knuckles turned white. My heart pounded inside my ribs like a trapped bird. Every step down the long hallway of the Ashbourne Art Institute felt heavy, as if my shoes were made of lead.I paused right at the threshold of the advanced painting studio.Inside, the room was bright and noisy. Tall wooden easels stood in long rows across the hardwood floor. Dried paint splattered the walls, and the sharp, bitter smell of turpentine and oil paint filled the air. A dozen students were already moving around, laughing and unpacking expensive brushes from neat plastic cases.They were all young, thin, and stylish. A girl with sleek black hair wore a fitted designer sweater that showed off her small waist. A guy beside her flipped his hair back, chatting easily about a gallery show he had visited over the weekend. They looked like they had been born in an art studio. They looked like they belonged.Then there was me.I looked dow
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The Art Class Enrollment.
~ Ivy ~"Ivy, you're a talented artist, but talent alone isn't enough," Ethan said, setting his coffee mug down on the wooden kitchen table. "You need training. You need to learn the craft, meet other artists, and build connections. I think you should enroll in a professional art class."I immediately shook my head, my hands tightening around my warm glass of water. "I can't, Ethan. I'm not good enough. Everyone in a place like that will just laugh at me.""Nobody is going to laugh at you," he said gently, his blue-gray eyes steady on mine."You don't know that," I whispered, looking down at my hands. "I've never been to a real art school. What if the teachers look at my work and tell me the same thing? That my work is too clumsy?"Ethan didn't push. He just leaned back in his chair, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "Just think about it, Ivy. That's all I'm asking."A week passed, and I thought about it every single day. One quiet evening, Ethan came by the guest house and placed a th
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The Truth Unveiled.
~ Ivy ~Ethan knocked on the guest house door just as the orange sun began to drop below the trees. He carried a heavy brown paper folder under his arm. His face was pale, his strong jaw clamped shut, and his usual warm blue-gray eyes looked dark and tired.I opened the door and took a step back, wiping my hands on my paint-stained apron."Ethan? What happened?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper. "You look like you've seen a ghost.""Ivy, we need to talk," he said quietly.He walked inside, his tall frame filling the small living room. He sat down heavily on the soft green sofa, setting the thick folder on the wooden coffee table between us. I closed the door, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet cottage. My heart beat fast against my ribs like a trapped bird. My hands began to shake, so I squeezed them together in front of my apron."What is that?" I asked, pointing a trembling finger at the table.Ethan looked at me with a painful mix of anger and gentleness. "I’
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The Twist: Chloe's Intent.
~ Ethan ~The white LED light on the corner of my desk was the only thing cutting through the dark. Outside, the night was dead quiet, but inside my office at Knight Medical, the quiet felt heavy. It felt like the air right before a thunderstorm hits.My eyes were glued to the tablet screen propped against a stack of medical charts.It was a single email, pulled straight from a private server by the investigator I’d hired three weeks ago. The timestamp on the header read two days after the gala. Two days after Ivy had been rushed to the emergency room bleeding, terrified, and screaming for a baby that was already gone.I read the words again. I didn't want to, but I couldn't look away.The fat cow lost her baby, the text read, written in Chloe Bennett's neat, airy font. I gave her a push, and nature did the rest. Now Julian is mine. Every. Single. Bit. Of. Him.I stared at those six sentences until the letters blurred together into black smudges.A loud, sharp crack echoed through the
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The Echoes of the Past.
~ Ivy ~I sat on the edge of my bed, watching the dark shadows stretch across the white rug. The guest house was quiet, so quiet I could hear the wind brushing against the glass, but inside my head, everything was loud.My hand rested on my stomach. It was flat now, completely empty.I picked up my pencil, trying to draw the outline of a leaf, but my fingers trembled so much that the tip snapped against the paper. The tiny click sounded like a gun going off in the silent room.I sucked in a sharp breath. My heart started beating fast, hitting my ribs like a trapped bird.Get a grip, Ivy, I told myself, squeezing my eyes shut. You are fine. You are safe in Ethan's guest house. You had a good day at the art show. People actually bought your paintings.I tried to focus on that. I tried to remember the woman at the gallery who held my hand and told me my work was beautiful. I tried to remember the check sitting on my desk, proof that I was finally making my own money.But the good thought
The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love The Secret Art Sales.
~ Ivy Monroe ~The dark wooden floor of the guest house cottage felt cool under my bare feet. A warm morning breeze drifted through the wide, curtainless window, carrying the smell of cut grass from the Knight Manor gardens.I sat at the small round dining table with my laptop open. On the screen was the homepage of a major online art marketplace. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking so hard I had to press my hands flat against the wooden edge of the table to steady them.In my lap lay three finished paintings and two charcoal sketches. For weeks, Ethan had been encouraging me to put my work online."You can reach people all over the world, Ivy," he had told me just two nights ago over dinner. "You don't need a fancy gallery to tell you what your art is worth. You can sell prints, original pieces, even custom work. You can build something that is entirely yours."I wanted that. More than anything, I wanted to prove to myself that I could earn a living on my own strength. But
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