Semua Bab Two Days Before The Wedding: Bab 51 - Bab 57

EvangelineOne week later.I swipe open the message from an unknown number and mutter its content out loud: Meet me here by 10:30.Underneath the message is a pinned location. I navigate the map, my brows creased into a frown. It leads to an old event building not very far from my museum.It clicks.A smile drags my lips wide.Alexander is the only one who knows that I’m still cooped up at the museum at this time. Maybe this is his way of luring me away from work after giving up on complaining. Or maybe he’s finally about to reveal the surprise he swears he’s been planning all week long.My heart flips at the thought, then drops when I realize I’m dressed too casual and reek of paint oil.I immediately FaceTime Alessio. She answers on the second ring, grumbling. “Girl, couldn’t you have picked a better time to call?”“I need you…” I pause, “wait, why are you doing your makeup?”She gives her eyes a dramatic roll. “I have a date.”I raise a brow in disbelief. Not that I don’t believe A

Alexander“The surgery was successful, Mr. Alexander. Your wife is out of danger.” I never would have thought that those words would someday bring me an unexplainable amount of peace. But that was what I felt a week ago when the doctor passed that information and moments later when my wife was wheeled out of the ER alive; unconscious but alive. I've refused to leave her side since then. Every day since then has bled into the same routine. I sit beside her bed, keep my fingers threaded through hers, listen to the machines beep, watch the slow rise and fall of her chest while telling her stories of how I hoped that night would have turned out. And when evening comes, I'll walk to the NICU to see my son.Just like now, standing here as the sun sets watching my son fight through death to be here. Even with all the money in the world, I'm unable to protect my child from pain. He looks so small, his body covered with wires and tubes. All I feel is shame. Why couldn't his first breath

Evangeline Three months later. The prison's visiting room is worse than I imagined. It's basically pale and lifeless concrete walls carrying the stale scent of bleach and rusted metal. One of the prison guards leads me past the crowded hall into a private cubicle. Hesitantly, I plop down on the seat. My fingers curl into fists on my thighs, trying to keep my feet from bouncing. The truth is, I'm nervous. Maybe a little too nervous to come face to face with that inhumane bitch that almost took my family from me. But this is what I need to do. For my peace. I want to see her suffer. I want to look her in the eye and let her know that she is bitten more than she can chew and she is not getting out of this anytime soon. The thuds of boots echo, snapping me out of my thoughts. Somehow, I feel like I can smell her. My jaw sets taut immediately. Tension simmers underneath my skin. A moment, the door creaks open. She walks in, her wrists cuffed in front of her, draped in that orange unifo