Hope Crawls Through Ruins by Kain Rwan Vale 147

Chapter 147 

Shepard approached Briana with measured steps, his gaze fixed on her. 

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He asked, “Can you tell me why you think there’s something wrong with that fire? What did you find?” 

Briana parted her lips, wanting to say so much, but she just couldn’t get the words out. 

She didn’t even know where to start. 

It was Olivia who first realized something was wrong, which led them to suspect Vivian. 

Briana had always thought the fire happened because Sam, the manager, smoked a cigarette and tossed the butt on the ground without putting it out. 

Just like Shepard, she’d been kept in the dark the whole time. 

After hesitating for a long moment, Briana said, “I just brought it up casually. Didn’t you accuse me of trying to come between you and Vivian?” 

Now it was Shepard’s turn to be at a loss for words. 

“There’s nothing more to say. I’m going to take a shower,” Briana said, stepping around him. 

Without any proof, it’d all just be speculation anyway. 

She didn’t want to waste her breath. 

Only when she could put undeniable proof right in front of Shepard would her words truly carry weight. 

Briana thought, ‘Almost there!’ 

With Henry and Olivia looking into things for her, Briana was sure it wouldn’t be long before Vivian’s real face was out in the open. 

Briana stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. 

Shepard just stood there, rooted to the spot. 

He was hit by a wave of confusion, a sense of being adrift: not even sure where he belonged anymore. 

He thought, ‘What have I been doing all these years? 

‘Am I even the same person I used to be? 

‘If everything I have done is a mistake, how could I ever face up to my own shame, to all the wrongs I have committed? 

‘How could I even have the nerve to ask Briana for forgiveness?‘ 

15:19 Mon, Jan 5 

Chapter 147 

Even though there still wasn’t any solid proof, Shepard was starting to have his doubts. 

He stood out on the balcony, chain–smoking one cigarette after another. 

He was smoking like his life depended on it. 

The ground was littered with cigarette butts, 

Tiny embers glowed, one after another. 

Shepard shut the balcony door tight, not letting even a breath of air in. 

Briana lay in bed, watching his back. 

She watched him flick away cigarette after cigarette, cach one landing on the floor. 

Briana thought, ‘What’s gotten into him? Why is he suddenly smoking like this? 

‘Is he trying to smoke himself to death? 

‘Did he finally figure out there was something seriously wrong with that fire?‘ 

Briana’s heart skipped a beat. 

She thought, ‘Did Shepard already find something before I even got the chance? 

‘Guess that works out for me. Less hassle.‘ 

Smoke hung heavy on the balcony, and before Shepard knew it, he’d burned through the whole pack. 

With his head hanging low, Shepard kept the spent cigarette butt clamped between his lips, giving the empty pack a rough shake. 

It was all out. 

Irritated, Shepard tossed the empty pack aside and turned around, only to find Briana staring right at him. 

Briana quickly closed her eyes, pretending she hadn’t been watching. 

Without missing a beat, Shepard turned his back to her. 

He didn’t want her to see him like this. 

Once the smoke had thinned out, Shepard finally made his way back to the master bedroom and went straight into the bathroom. 

Briana was drifting in and out of sleep when she felt someone pull her into a gentle back hug. 

She knew it was Shepard, so she tried to squirm away. 

But he just hugged her even tighter. 

15:19 Mon, Jan 5 

Chapter 147 

Shepard muttered, “Briana, am I just the worst? 

“Someone like me doesn’t deserve you, right? 

“You gave me five years, and I just wasted them. 

“Don’t hate me, Briana. Please, don’t.” 

Briana was half–asleep, her eyelids so heavy that she couldn’t open them no matter how hard she tried. 

She couldn’t tell if this was real or just a dream. 

She thought, ‘It must be a dream. 

‘There’s no way Shepard would ever say something like that in real life. 

‘Only the Shepard from before the fire would ever hold me like this, calling me ‘Briana‘ again and again. Back then, his voice was gentle and overflowing with tenderness. 

“The Shep I once loved had died in that fire. 

‘The man who survives now belongs to Vivian.‘ 

Briana finally let herself sink into sleep, her exhaustion pulling her under. 

By the time she opened her eyes again, morning had already arrived. 

Briana went downstairs, heading for the dining room. 

Shepard was sitting at the table, newspaper in hand, with a cup of black coffee in front of him. 

Briana pulled out a chair and sat down. 

Shepard quietly set the newspaper aside, then poured her some milk and placed it in front of her. 

Briana was a little taken aback, almost flattered by the unexpected gesture. 

“You didn’t spike it or anything, right?” she teased, though there was a hint of caution in her voice. 

“What kind of drug would I even put in there?” Shepard replied, a hint of helplessness in his voice. 

Briana thought, ‘How would I know?‘ 

But Shepard replied with surprising seriousness, “If I could, I’d slip you something to make you regret everything.” 

Briana gave him a puzzled look. She echoed, “Something to make me regret?” 

Shepard replied, “Yeah. The drug that makes you regret divorcing me, regret choosing Henry, regret…” 

Before he could finish, Briana cut him off. She said, “Looks like you’re the one who needs that pill, not me. 

15:19 Mon, Jan 5 

Chapter 147 

You’re the one with regrets, not me.” 

She never wavered about the divorce. 

She never second–guessed any of her choices. 

Even now, she didn’t regret insisting on marrying Shepard. 

Briana accepted the consequences of her love: she lost, and she admitted it. 

But she still had a whole lifetime ahead of her. She could totally start fresh. 

Only, she didn’t have the heart to fall in love again. 

Love wasn’t something one could just get back once it was gone. 

Shepard said with a bitter smile, “If only there were a pill that could make you regret things.” 

“For starters, there’s no ‘what if‘ in real life. And as for regret pills? Those just don’t exist,” Briana replied, her voice steady. 

Shepard’s gaze settled on her, brooding and shadowed. 

But Briana just started in on her breakfast, not paying him any mind. 

Once she finished, she got up and headed out, hopping in her car. 

She pretty much ignored Shepard the whole time. 

Shepard didn’t try to stop her. He just stood there, watching her ride off into the distance. 

He used to hit her with the silent treatment, but now she was serving it right back: twice as cold. 

Shepard muttered, “Is this what I get? Guess I brought it all on myself.” 

Daniel just kept his mouth shut, not daring to chime in. 

“Whatever, guess this is payback,” Shepard said, resignation heavy in his voice. 

***** 

Briana sat in her studio at Dreamscape Gallery, staring at her nearly finished painting: Divine Muse. 

In the painting, a young woman was lying on her back, her face turned upward, surrounded by a carpet of petals. Her fingers were curled delicately, her long legs gently bent, her figure lithe and alluring. 

Each strand of her hair was distinct, flowing like seaweed. 

A sheer veil lightly draped over her body, revealing the soft curves of her chest and the flawless line of her collarbone. 

15:19 Mon, Jan 5 

Chapter 147 

Even though the sun wasn’t painted, its light seemed to fill every corner of the canvas. 

The colors were vivid and bold. 

The real highlight of the painting was the way sunlight poured over the girl, wrapping her in brightness. Yet along her side, the light slowly gave way to deepening shadows. 

Briana was just about to add a few more strokes when she suddenly heard a commotion outside. 

Someone shouted, “Is this even a real gallery? Showing stuff like this is just shameless! 

“I brought my kid here to learn something, and this is what you put on display? 

“That’s it, I’m reporting you. I’m calling the authorities right now. 

“Just wait, this place is doomed. I’m never coming back. What a dump, such bad luck!” 

Briana hurried out of her studio and into the gallery’s main hall. 

There, she saw a middle–aged woman with short hair, pulling a little boy about six or seven, yelling her head off at the staff. 

The woman was going full Karen. 

Briana hurried over. She said, “Hello, I’m…” 

The woman snapped, “Who do you think you are?” She jabbed a finger at the painting on the wall and demanded, “Open your eyes. Is this something a kid should be looking at? She’s practically half–naked.” 

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