I tossed my bridal bouquet into the arms of my best friend, Daphne Max, wishing her the kind of happiness I thought I had just found. Daphne’s smile stuttered for a moment before she playfully scolded me. “Don’t you dare curse me, Cass. I’ve dedicated my life to my art. Men are irrelevant.” Less than a year later, I found her, naked, in my husband’s office. The fallout was a catastrophe. I made sure of it. I hired a dozen people to string up posters outside Nolan Bell’s company headquarters, exposing their sordid affair. I printed thousands of flyers with pictures of them tangled up in my marital bed, then handed them out personally. I reported Daphne to her art school, and during her graduation ceremony, I had a loop of the office footage projected onto a jumbo screen. Yet, Nolan protected her. He pulled every string imaginable, ensuring she graduated with honors from the country’s top art academy. I was seeing red. I went for the one thing he couldn’t buy back: Daphne’s soul. I destroyed the entire gallery Nolan had bankrolled for her first solo exhibition. The price for my final act of rage: three years in a federal prison and a final, disgusted dismissal from Nolan. “You forgave my mother for sleeping with your father,” he sneered, his face a mask of contempt. “Why can’t you forgive me?” Five years after our divorce, I ran into Nolan Bell at the Saks Fifth Avenue jewelry counter. 1 The sales associate was wrapping up a tie I’d just chosen for my husband. Seeing Nolan approach, her professional demeanor ratcheted up a notch. “Mr. Bell, welcome. Your wife’s gown is prepped and waiting for you.” Nolan gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on the tie in my hands. “Pay for hers as well,” he murmured. I politely refused, placing a stack of crisp bills on the counter. He sighed, a dramatic flutter of breath. “Cassidy, after all this time, you still hate me.” I simply smiled. I didn’t have the time to hate him. I had moved on. I took the small designer bag and tucked it casually into the canvas tote bag filled with fresh groceries slung over my shoulder, then walked out. The early autumn wind howled around me. As I walked the familiar route toward the transit stop, my hair whipped into my eyes. I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, and when I finally pushed the strands away, Nolan’s sleek black sedan was idling right in front of me. He frowned, noticing the redness in my eyes caused by the wind. “Get in. I’ll drive you.” “I’m fine, thank you. I’m taking the subway.” He studied me, head to toe, before his gaze settled on the canvas bag. He asked the question cautiously, as if approaching a skittish animal. “Have you been… okay these past few years?” “I’ve been great.” Nolan clearly didn’t believe me. “Just get in the car. Let me take you home.” The city bus behind us honked impatiently, but Nolan didn’t move. Under the scrutiny of onlookers, I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat. “The Briarwood Estates,” I stated flatly. The air went dead silent. His voice was a rasp when he finally spoke. “Why are you living there? That development has been practically condemned. And for a woman alone, especially with…” He trailed off, unable to finish. But I knew exactly what he was going to say. It was the place where my mother died. Ten years ago, on the day of my wedding to Nolan, she refused to attend. She jumped from the tenth-floor rooftop. The backseat was spacious, but the heating was too high. I cranked the window down a bit. “You get sick the minute the wind touches you. Roll it up. If you’re hot, I’ll just lower the temperature.” I shook my head, offering a placid smile. “That doesn’t happen anymore. Suit yourself.” He fell silent. A moment later, his phone rang. “Hey, honey. Did you get the gown? Where are you now?” Daphne’s voice, familiar yet laced with an unfamiliar, syrupy enthusiasm, filled the car. “I did. I just ran into Cassidy and I’m dropping her off.” A pause hung on the line. “Cass? She’s back? Why didn’t you say something? We should all get together, why leave me out?” I had known Daphne for over a decade, but I had never heard that tone before. She used to be reserved and quiet, focused only on her painting. If someone stole her contest spot, she would just hide and cry. I was the one who grabbed a baseball bat and publicly smashed the usurper’s entry, wrote a letter exposing the corruption, and spent three days in juvenile hall to get her justice. The right kind of love could, apparently, turn glass into steel. “It was just a chance encounter, Daphne. She has things to do. I’m coming right back.” “A chance encounter means we’re fated to connect! Why can’t we just treat an old friend to one meal?” “Daphne, stop.” Another strained silence followed. Nolan’s coaxing had always been gentle, but when he decided something, no one could stop him. Daphne should have known that better than anyone. She hung up abruptly as the car pulled up to the curb outside the decaying apartment building. “We’re here.” I offered a quick, polite thank you and got out. Nolan slowly turned his head away from the surrounding buildings and called out. 2 “Cassidy, can I ask you one thing? Who was that tie for?” “My husband.” Nolan ran a hand over his face, a gesture of weary disbelief. He clearly thought I was still trying to wound him. “Same brand, same silk, same pattern you used to buy for me for five years.” “And?” I met his eyes, my gaze utterly calm. “You don’t have to keep this pretense up in front of me. After all this time, I just want to see you doing well, not… like this.” Like this. The glass of the main door reflected my image. Casual leggings, plain flat shoes, the grocery-filled tote bag. I looked like a thousand other exhausted women running errands for their families. For a woman who had once only worn couture and diamonds, this look felt perfectly fine. I smiled, not taking the bait. “I think I look great.” A flicker of genuine surprise crossed his face. “Cassidy, you really are different from before.” “That’s what everyone says.” I turned and walked away, not once looking back. I climbed five flights of worn stairs and unlocked the door. The interior was arranged exactly as it had been last year. A photo of my mother sat next to the old television. The candle in front of it had long since burned out. I lit a new one, tied on an apron, and went into the kitchen. I quickly prepared three dishes and a soup. A bowl of untouched rice sat opposite me at the table, and I ate slowly. “Mom, I ran into Nolan today.” “Don’t worry. He can’t hurt your daughter anymore. Besides, I’m not as stupid as I used to be.” The only reply was the vast, silent peace of the room. My appetite was gone. I put down my chopsticks and walked into the bedroom, pulling out an old photo album. “Let’s look at your stunning beauty, Mom. That black and white picture is depressing.” Before I could open it, a single photo slipped out and fluttered to the floor. I picked it up. Nolan, Daphne, and me. Three exuberant, youthful faces laughing for the camera. I was in the middle, my arms linked with theirs, smiling the widest—a gap where my right canine tooth should have been, making me look a little goofy. It was the summer I turned thirteen. Debt collectors had shown up at Nolan’s house, screaming threats. None of the neighbors, not even my parents, dared to intervene. But I charged in. The fist meant for Nolan’s face landed squarely on mine instead. My tooth was shattered instantly, and my face was swollen for weeks. My mother, heartbroken, told me to stay away from the Bell family. But Nolan’s mother, dragging her injured legs, crawled and knocked her head on our doorstep, thanking my parents until her forehead bled. My mother finally relented. For the next ten years, there was always an extra place set for Nolan at our dinner table, and an extra new outfit at Christmas. When my mother wasn’t busy, she helped Nolan’s mother run her stall, and if anyone tried to bully her, my mother would unleash hell. They called each other sisters. No one, however, could have predicted that the timid, stuttering younger sister, Loretta Max (Daphne’s mother), would end up in the bed of the elder sister’s husband. When I finally came home that day, everything had been smashed. My mother stood in the middle of the living room, weeping hysterically, the five-finger marks on her cheeks a terrifying sight. My father was shielding Loretta in his arms. “I’m divorcing you. You can have everything. I only want Loretta.” Nolan, standing beside me, panicked and tried to grab Loretta’s hand. My mother turned and slapped him. Twice. I pushed her away. She stumbled, falling to the floor, staring up at me in stunned disbelief. 3 I was crying, too. But the words I spoke were cruel and cutting. “Mom, how dare you hit Nolan.” The memories scattered. I looked down at the small photo in my hand. After the divorce, I had burned every single thing related to Nolan. This was a stray survivor. I was about to toss it in the trash when a knock sounded at the door. I assumed it was Mrs. Jones, who usually stopped by this time every year. I opened it without checking. Standing there were Daphne, arm-in-arm with Nolan. Her smile was radiant. “Cassidy! Long time no see! You haven’t changed a bit after all these years.” “Nolan couldn’t say no to me. We hope we’re not intruding?” I stared at them calmly. “I won’t invite you in. Do you need something?” Daphne faltered, shooting a wounded look at Nolan. “Daphne just wanted to see you,” he said, placing a luxury shopping bag on the foyer table. “She brought you a gift. No hidden agenda.” Daphne immediately jumped in to explain. “It’s a skincare set I’ve been loving lately. I had an extra one, and since we used to share everything, I thought I’d bring it over.” I glanced at the bag. It was the same brand my housekeeper, Marie, used. “And that photo…” Daphne’s eyes suddenly welled up. “Cassidy, after all this time, you still haven’t let go.” I crumpled the photo into a ball and dropped it into the wastebasket. “Hardly.” She started to reach for my hand, then hesitated, her fingers stopping mid-air. “I know you’re still hurting. Today would have been your wedding anniversary with Nolan.” “What happened back then wasn’t completely our fault. If you’re really over it, let us take you out to dinner. And please, tell us if there’s anything we can do to help you. We’re old friends.” My instinct was an immediate, firm rejection. Then the candle in front of my mother’s photo crackled loudly. I offered a small, quiet smile, suddenly changing my mind. “Sounds lovely.” Daphne talked far more than she used to. Her small, intimate gestures were also frequent. She recounted a romantic trip to Turkey the previous month, and while waiting at a red light, she leaned over and applied her lip balm to Nolan’s mouth with her finger. “Every fall and winter, I have to remind you. You kissed me so hard last time you made my lip bleed. Don’t you ever learn?” Nolan caught her hand, a hint of irritation in his voice. “Stop, Daphne.” “Oh, sorry! I forgot Cassidy was here. You don’t mind, do you, Cass? Nolan and I are just so used to this…” I cut her off, my tone utterly indulgent. “Of course not.” “I’ve seen the two of you tangle up on a king-sized bed, why would I mind a little lip balm?” The car fell into a profound silence. We were quiet the rest of the way. I watched the passing scenery, thinking that if my mother were still alive, she would be amazed by the changes. My father’s insistence on divorcing her for Loretta nearly drove my mother mad. And my secret marriage to the son of the woman who stole her husband was the final blow that killed her. At first, I only hated my father and Loretta. They had betrayed my mother, forcing her transformation from an unbreakable woman into a nervous, whiny wreck who aged before my eyes. 4 Later, I hated myself. After numbly arranging my mother’s funeral, I went south alone during what should have been my honeymoon, staying for a month. During that time, Nolan was the one person I couldn’t bring myself to hate. I saw him as a pearl covered in dust, a poor boy trapped by his circumstances. When I left, I entrusted Daphne to look after him. She took excellent care of him. In the new house Nolan and I had bought, she cooked with practiced efficiency; five dishes and a soup, all beautifully presented. I genuinely thanked her. For that year, the three of us became closer than ever. Nolan became even more devoted to me. He used the first big payout from his company to buy the sapphire bracelet I loved. He set off city-wide fireworks for my birthday. Every month, during my cycle, he canceled all in-person meetings and worked from home with me. I never once doubted it. He loved me completely. Until the day I went to his office unannounced. Behind a discreet, unmarked door in his inner office, I heard a low, breathless moan. I flung the door open. Two pale, naked bodies, white as bone, stabbed straight into my eyes. I shrieked, a sound ripped from my core. Nolan’s movement was swift and decisive, shielding the woman beneath him. “Who let you in here?!” “Get out!” I seized every object I could reach, hurling it at them. Blood streamed from a cut on Nolan’s forehead, but he remained rigid, desperately covering the woman in his arms. I smashed everything in the room, but I couldn’t bring myself to go near them—the two people I had loved most in my entire life. Terror was bone-deep. I tried to speak, my jaw trembling. “Daphne, look at me.” Tears streamed down her face. She pulled the covers up to her neck and knelt on the bed, looking at me. “Cassidy, I’m so sorry.” “Nolan and I know this is wrong, but we have fallen uncontrollably in love.” “Please, can you give us your blessing?” Her abject, pleading posture reminded me exactly of the day I first met her, cornered in an alley by a gang of girls. To protect her that year, I, the straight-A student, earned the lifelong enmity of that group and couldn’t walk home alone for months. I had personally handed her my wedding bouquet, wishing her all the happiness in the world. And now she was lying in my husband’s arms, begging me for permission. Tears poured down my face. My voice was a whisper. “When did this start?” She stammered, unable to answer. But Nolan answered for her. “Does it matter? Are you done making a scene? This is a corporate office, not our bedroom.” “Does it matter?! Nolan! Does it not matter to you?!” I screamed at him hysterically. He stood there, naked, his gaze shockingly frank. “Fine! I’ll tell you! Last March, when you ran off to the South and left me here alone—that’s when we started.” “I wasn’t trying to hide it forever. You had just lost your mother, and I couldn’t bear to hurt you again, so I let you maintain this marriage facade. Daphne has suffered enough, and I won’t let her worry anymore. I was planning to ask for a divorce after your mother’s death anniversary passed.” “Since you’ve discovered it now, let’s be honest. Divorce me. You can have anything, but I only want Daphne.” It was in that moment I understood the devastating force of the hand I had once pushed into my mother’s back, all those years ago when I chose Nolan. But before the divorce, I was determined to have my breakdown. 5 I used my phone to snap photos of them looking wrecked on the bed, printing hundreds of flyers and distributing them to every single one of his employees. I hung increasingly larger posters outside his company building, detailing their disgusting relationship. I reported Daphne to her university for professional misconduct. The art school forums were awash with vicious rumors about her. I even hired a projectionist to loop our happy pre-affair videos on a giant screen during her commencement ceremony. The memories I once cherished became the weapons I used to destroy them. But Nolan still protected her. She graduated from the nation’s top art academy and was set to open her own gallery show. To safeguard Daphne, Nolan finally deigned to look at me. “Daphne’s dream is about to come true. It has nothing to do with our grievances. Don’t you dare ruin it.” I was far beyond listening. “Ruin it? Hardly. I’ve already prepared something. I think the attendees will be very interested in seeing those masterpieces.” He slammed a document down in front of me. “If you want to keep your mother’s final resting place undisturbed, you’ll behave yourself. Sign the divorce papers and stay away from Daphne and me forever.” When my mother was buried, I was too overcome by grief to function. Nolan, as my then-fiancé, handled everything, including the selection and purchase of the plot. Given the land shortage, even final resting places had become commodities. If Nolan signed the paperwork, my mother’s eternal peace would be revoked. I hurled the cup of coffee I was holding right into his face. That night, I cried myself to sleep on my mother’s cold tombstone. The next morning, I went to the courthouse. The reality was different from what I’d imagined. Nolan only offered me the deed to his family’s dilapidated old apartment. “You reported the company’s tax issues, and a large portion of our funds is now frozen. This is all I can give you.” “If Daphne hadn’t pleaded for you, you wouldn’t get a penny.” I was no match for Nolan. Never had been. He was calm, serious, and achieved his goals through strategy and power. I was the one who rushed in without thinking, winning battles only to lose the war. I quieted down as he wished. I sold the apartment. But before I left for the South, I went to Daphne’s art exhibition. It was an impulsive decision. A massive digital billboard in the city center displayed her beautiful face. The exhibition was titled The Soul’s Latch. It was a phrase we used often in our letters during our teenage years—a naive hope, a pure wish for genuine friendship. Clinging to a final, masochistic sense of nostalgia, I fully disguised myself and stepped into the venue. I felt like a rat creeping into someone else’s happiness. Then I saw the painting titled The Soul’s Latch. It was two naked bodies. I had traced the small mole on the man’s shoulder blade a thousand times. The woman was clutching a crumpled pillow. The background was a bed covered in light lilac sheets. Outside the window, pink magnolias I’d personally chosen at the flower market were blooming, silent and beautiful. That was our house. It was also the place where Nolan and Daphne had first made love. The soul was hers, and Nolan was the latch. A violent, uncontrollable wave of nausea hit me. I vomited right there on the floor. The sound alerted the two of them, who were entertaining guests nearby. Daphne’s soft, velvety voice cut through the commotion. 6 “Are you alright, ma’am?” The heart-shaped brooch pinned to her chest was blinding, perfectly matching the key-shaped cufflink on Nolan’s sleeve. I went insane. I grabbed the brooch and scratched it violently across the massive canvas. SSSSCHLUCK! The sound of the canvas tearing echoed through the vast hall. Everyone gasped. The scene erupted in chaos. Security guards wrestled me to the ground. My face pressed against the cold marble, I looked up. Nolan was holding the crying Daphne, staring at me as if I were a sewer rat. “Call the police,” he said. I started laughing. A huge, maniacal laugh that shocked everyone, causing them to step back. Because the damages exceeded ten thousand dollars, I was sentenced to three years in prison, plus massive compensation for property and emotional damages. I made several attempts to end my life inside, but was miraculously saved each time. A year later, I was released early for good behavior, penniless, but radically changed. The car arrived at the restaurant. Daphne excused herself to refresh her makeup. Nolan stood beside me, his voice low and solemn. “I’m sorry.” “What we did was absolutely wrong. I’ll tell Daphne to watch her boundaries next time.” I raised an eyebrow. The old Nolan would never have bowed his head to me. Now, he was offering an immediate apology. I looked at him, confused. “Don’t bother. You’re married. I was just having a flashback to that time. It meant nothing.” A flash of genuine sadness crossed his eyes. I couldn’t decipher it, nor did I care to try. Fortunately, Daphne returned, acting as if the tense scene in the car had never happened. “We three used to love pooling our money for fancy steak. Let’s feast tonight!” Nolan quickly objected. “Cassidy only ate fancy steak for our sakes. Her stomach is too sensitive for anything too oily. How could you forget that?” “It’s fine. My stomach is much better now.” Years of dedicated recovery and a completely new lifestyle had brought my mind and body back to their best state. My phone suddenly rang. The name ‘Husband’ popped up on the screen. I answered. Lucian’s deep, clear voice was laced with a hint of playful complaint. “Wifey, taking Finn to that TV segment was more exhausting than ten days of work. I bet you’ll say I’ve lost weight when you get home.” In the background, my little boy’s voice squeaked a protest. “No way! Mama, Papa was talking to a pretty lady host, and they were laughing a lot!” “This little menace is digging a hole for his old man. That was the host, Cass!” I couldn’t help but smile at the noisy exchange. I looked up. The mall’s giant screen was playing Lucian’s handsome face, where he was formally giving an interview. Next to him, a perfectly adorable little boy with huge, round eyes watched the proceedings. I hung up after a couple more words and snapped a photo of the screen. When I looked down to send it, I realized that both Nolan and Daphne were frozen stiff. “Cassidy, you’re married?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "390694", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel