Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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His shouting drew stares from passersby.
He was now disheveled, desperate, and unreasonable. I felt a wave of nausea as I looked at him. I felt no pity for him, only an indescribable mix of irritation and weariness.
I yanked my sleeve out of his grasp. He lost his balance and nearly fell.
“Darion, what the hell are you fussing about?”
My voice was cold.
“I’m not making a fuss!
“I’m not drunk!” he slurred, suddenly dropping to his knees, tears and mucus streaking his face. “I did all of this for you… I broke up with her. She never cherished me… The day my family’s company collapsed, she took all the savings
and vanished.
“Breanna, I regret it… Let’s start over…”
His dirty hands clutched at my pants. “I don’t want anything… I’m begging you…”
I jerked my leg away, and he collapsed onto the sidewalk.
Staring down at this man sobbing uncontrollably, I suddenly recalled how confident and commanding he’d been in the meeting room all those years ago.
Was this the man I’d given up everything for?
Was this the man I used to love, the one who left me waiting all night at the airport, and never showed up even after 1 passed out from a high fever?
“Start over?” I let out a cold laugh and pulled a marriage certificate from my briefcase.
“Look carefully.” I held it squarely in front of Darion’s distorted face.
In the photo, I wore a simple white dress. Randall stood beside me in a deep blue suit.
He smiled faintly. My gaze was calm. We looked like we were taking an ordinary ID photo.
The gilded words “Spouse: Randall Whitman” shimmered under the sunlight.
Darion’s wailing caught in his throat.
He stumbled backward, his fingers trembling as he pointed at the certificate. “It’s fake… This has to be fake! How could you possibly…”
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Chapter S
“Why not?” I tucked the certificate away. My tone was so calm that I didn’t even realize it.
“Darion, what made you think you were so special? Do you really think I can’t live without you?
“My husband is Randall Whitman.”
With that, I turned and walked toward the Maybach that had been waiting for me.
Vincent had already opened the door.
“Breanna, you’ll rot in hell!”
Darion’s hysterical cursing came from behind, but I moved forward without hesitation.
The car door clicked shut, cutting off all sound.
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In the rearview mirror, the figure that had once caused me so much pain grew smaller and smaller, until it finally dis- appeared around the corner.
The scenery outside flashed by in a blur, mirroring our irretrievable past.
The road ahead remained long. Whatever the future held, I’d let nature take its course.
The end..
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