Chapter 14
Terrence couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things started to change between them. The memories eluded him, except for de–after his first sexual encounter with Alyssa, the immediate relief that Thea would never find out about his betrayal because she was deaf.
That single thought had set the stage for his downward spiral.
Yet, he had never anticipated that Thea would punish him in the most irreversible way possible–by taking her own life on what should have been their wedding
day.
Now, there was no denying it. Thea was dead, and he had been the one to push her to this end. The last two lines of her note cut deeper than any blade, leaving him in unbearable agony.
The woman he loved so deeply no longer wished to cross paths with him. What unimaginable pain must she have endured to write those words? And the one to
blame for all of it?
Himself!
A wave of stunned silence swept through the guests as the casket came into view. What they first dismissed as a prank by some business competitor was revealed to be horrifyingly real by Terrence’s unmistakable anguish.
The casket held none other than Thea, the bride who should have been walking down the aisle. The initial confusion about her absence, coupled with that damning video, suddenly formed a terrible clarity.
Thea had known about Terrence’s affair from the beginning. She had arranged for the video to play, and after her suicide, she ensured her casket was sent to the wedding.
A somber murmur of grief swept through the crowd. No one had expected Terrence, who had always seemed so deeply in love in public, would ever betray Thea. The news struck them like a heavy blow, not to mention Thea, who had been living in a sweet deception. No one could blame her for ending her life after learning the truth. The pain was too much to bear.
Still, it was a terrible loss–a young life cut short. The wedding guests, who had arrived in good spirits, could only shake their heads and leave quietly. Only Terrence remained, kneeling before the casket.
During the burial, he stood like a hollow shell, his heart numb with grief. But when they began to cover the casket with earth, he suddenly came to his senses. Eyes burning, he threw himself forward, refusing to let anyone near it. Several people had to hold him back, restraining him with difficulty.
When the final layer of earth settled, all Terrence had left was Thea’s black–and–white portrait on the tombstone. He broke free from those holding him and fell to his knees, resting his forehead against the stone.
His fingers traced the engraved letters of “Thea Lundy” as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Thea, this is all my fault… I’m sorry.”
But his apology came too late. There was no one left to answer.
Terrence walked home like a hollow shell, his face lifeless. When he opened the door, he was struck by the cold. Somehow, in just three days, the house had turned freezing.
After Thea came into his life, she had a habit of filling the house with small, warm touches–the floral tablecloth on the dining table, the “Welcome Home” mat by the door, framed pictures of them together, and even matching toothbrush cups in the bathroom.
Terrence had watched this cold, impersonal villa slowly turn into a home that brought him comfort every time he returned. But now, their photos together were missing, the toothbrush cups were gone, and the tablecloth had vanished.
The house had retumed to its old, icy emptiness, just like it had been five years ago. Even their wedding photos, taken just recently, were nowhere to be found. As Terrence took in the strange yet familiar surroundings, he felt himself on the verge of breaking.
He gathered all the housekeepers and demanded sharply, “Who removed Thea’s belongings? No one had my permission to discard them!”
Terrence thought the housekeepers had cleared out every trace of Thea after learning of her death. But the housekeepers exchanged uncertain looks, clearly unaware of what had happened.
One finally said, “Mr. Hatcher, Ms. Lundy instructed us to remove those items three days ago.”
Another added, “She had us place everything in the backyard before burning it herself. We even asked if she wanted to keep the wedding photos, but she said they no longer mattered. Given how much you indulged her, we didn’t feel we could stop her.”
