Chapter 13!
Back at the Westwood estate, chaos buzzed like static in the grand halls.
Celeste paced back and forth in her room, her phone clutched in a trembling hand. Her heart thumped like thunder in her chest. She had already called Brent five times. Voicemail. Again and again. Her palms were sweaty, her lips bitten raw.”
She hit dial once more. And this time–he picked up.
“Brent!” she gasped, relief rushing into her tone like a drug.
“I’m busy,” came his cold, tired voice.
Her relief immediately turned to rage. “So, you’re ignoring me now?”
There was silence on the line. Brent didn’t deny it.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you all night!” she cried. “Where are you? Why aren’t you home? You just left me here like–like I’m nothing!” “I said I’m busy.”
Celeste’s voice cracked. “Busy with her, aren’t you? That woman–Layla. I thought you said you didn’t love her anymore!“>
Brent exhaled sharply. “I was wrong.”
Her heart dropped. “No. No, Brent, don’t say that. It’s me you love. We–we were perfect together! We had a future!“> “You were a mistake,” Brent said quietly. “The moment I chose you over her, I lost everything.”
Celeste’s voice turned desperate. “Brent, please. Don’t do this. You know what they want, right? My father–he wants me to marry that vegetative man from the DuPont family! Some twisted alliance merger! I can’t do this. I can’t marry someone who can’t even speak! If you don’t come back, I’ll–I’ll–”
“Celeste-”
“I’ll kill myself, Brent! I’m serious!” she sobbed. “If you walk away now, I’ll end it. There’s nothing left if I lose you.“>
He didn’t respond right away. Then, calmly, coldly, he said, “If I lose Layla, I’ve already lost everything. I’ll come back… when I’ve brought my wife home.”
And he hung up.”
Celeste stood frozen, the phone slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, rage building inside her like an erupting volcano.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The door opened.D
Her father stepped in, dressed in ceremonial grey. “Get ready,” he said. “The DuPonts are expecting a final word. The engagement will be sealed today.“D
She didn’t answer. She just collapsed onto the floor, her sobs echoing through the marbled walls.
In Switzerland, the wind whispered softly through the pine trees outside Layla’s cottage, but inside, peace was hard to maintain.
Brent had started showing up.
Small things at first.
A warm cup of coffee left at her doorstep. Groceries placed on her porch. Then, full bouquets–this time with hand–written notes of apology. Then came the notes tucked under her windshield, on her door, slipped under the café napkins when she’d go for coffee. Forgive me.2
I know I’m late, but I’m not leaving again.
Layla wanted to hate him. She told herself she did. But Brent knew her. He knew exactly which books she liked, what kind of tea calmed her at night. He remembered her habits–how she curled up when it was cold, how she rubbed her wrists when she was anxious. And with every reminder of that… the cracks in her walls deepened.
But she didn’t reach out.”
She couldn’t.
Not after everything he’d done.
So when Zack showed up one sunny afternoon, smiling as he handed her a paper bag filled with cinnamon rolls and lavender honey, Layla let herself smile back. And that smile grew as they spent the day walking by the lake, talking about childhood memories, throwing rocks into the water like they were seventeen again.
Brent saw them.”
He had followed her, not out of spite, but desperation. And there they were–Layla and Zack–laughing. Side by side. Their shoulders brushing like it was second nature.}}
His fists clenched as he watched from the edge of the park, hidden beneath the shadow of a pine tree.§
Zack. He hadn’t recognized him at first, but now it hit him–Zack was her childhood friend. The one she’d mentioned once, the boy she used to write letters to before her mother threw them away. Of all people.
And then–they kissed.”
Layla turned with a gentle smile, brushing a speck of flour from Zack’s cheek from their earlier café stop, and he leaned forward, lips meeting hers in a soft, respectful kiss.
Brent saw red.}]
His body moved before his mind caught up.
He stormed forward, rage exploding from every step.”
And then–his fist flew.
Zack stumbled back, shocked, a bruise already blooming on his jaw.
Brent’s voice thundered through the air like a whip. “How dare you kiss my wife!”
Layla stood frozen, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. People turned to stare.}
Zack wiped his mouth, stunned. “What the hell, Brent?!”
“She’s still my wife,” Brent growled.
Layla shoved Brent hard in the chest. “What is wrong with you?! You don’t get to dictate my life anymore!”
Brent looked at her, breathing hard, his eyes wild with hurt and jealousy.”
“I told you I’d wait,” he said hoarsely. “But watching someone else touch you? I can’t-”
“Well, you should’ve thought about that,” she snapped. “Before you tore my heart apart and handed it to someone else.“} Zack stood between them now, protective. “Back off, Brent. She doesn’t need this.”
