My Funreal 87

Chapter 87 Confronting Kael About the Affair! He Panicked. 

He grabbed her hand in a panic, checking her body up and down for Injuries. 

Are you okay? Why are you here? What are you burning?” 

Nova’s eyes were empty, cold. She brushed his hand away, her gaze flicking to the ashes of the love letters on the ground. 

Nothing important–just useless stuff.” 

Kael’s heart skipped a beat. When he spotted a charred corner of fabric among the ashes, his brow furrowed. “Nova, isn’t that the dress I gave you? Why did you 

burn it… 

If you didn’t like it, I could’ve bought you a new one…” He rambled, his voice tight with anxiety, terrified of hearing words that would shatter him. 

Jova let out a sharp laugh, cutting through his excuses. “I burned it because I didn’t like it.” 

she turned and walked away, not looking back. 

Cael felt like he’d been hit over the head with a hammer, a sharp, stabbing pain spreading through his chest. 

le’d gone to so much trouble to get that dress–he’d pulled strings with Chanel’s VIP team, waited weeks for it to be custom–made. And she’d just burned it? 

he used to love this brand more than anything. Every time he bought her a piece, her face would light up like a kid on Christmas. 

Nova…” His voice was thick with loneliness. He hurried after her, forcing himself to stay calm. “If you didn’t like it, why didn’t you tell me?” 

Nova stopped, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. He has the nerve to ask that after giving me a fake? 

Aren’t you too busy to listen to me?” 

Cael froze. His eyes darted to her face, panic rising. Did she see me with Sloane at the stadium? 

No, Nova–wait. It’s not what you think. Sloane and I… we’re nothing. Don’t misunderstand…” 

Tova knew exactly what he was thinking, a cold laugh bubbling up in her throat. “Did I say anything about her? I just thought you were busy. Why? Were you 

with Sloane earlier?” 

Cael choked on his words. He bit down hard on his lip, realizing he’d just confessed without being pressed. He wanted to slap himself. 

Nova, let me explain-” 

lova sneered and walked away. 

Cael kicked himself, his jaw tight with frustration. He chased after her, blocking her path. 

le forced a smile, desperate to fix things. “Nova, let’s go to the stadium now? I’ve got everything ready–just waiting for you. You’ll love it…” 

lova’s steps faltered, tears instantly blurring her vision. The image of Kael kneeling to put a ring on Sloane’s finger replayed in her mind, unshakable. 

I don’t want to go.” Her voice was cold, flat. 

Cael stared at her, stunned. For a second, he thought he’d misheart–but her icy expression told him it was true. 

le frowned, his voice soft with disappointment. “Nova, we’re already here. Can’t you just take a look? For me?” 

I lied. I never wanted to see it in the first place,” 

She walked past him, her steps steady. 

16:27 

He Cried at My Funeral. I Laughed at His Gala. 

53.8° 

Chapter 87 Confronting Kael About the Affair! He Panicked 

Bang! 

Y you lied to me?” Kael felt like someone had driven a knife into his chest. The pain was unbearable. 

He stepped in front of her again, his patience fraying. “Nova, I’ve been planning this surprise since yesterday. The least you can do is look at it! 

“Don’t say things that hurt me like this…” 

Nova stared into the distance, taking a shaky breath. This is what hurts him? 

Had he forgotten how much he’d hurt her? How he’d lied to her for months? How he’d promised to love her forever, then run into another woman’s arms? How he’d called this a “surprise” but given her a fake dress, turning her into a joke? 

He’d lied to her for ten years. And now he had the nerve to complain about being hurt? 

Nova blinked back the sting in her eyes. She turned to him, her voice steady but sharp. “Kael, when I say I don’t like something… I mean it.” 

I don’t like you anymore. And I don’t want your stupid surprises. 

She walked away, leaving Kael standing there, his face ashen with pain. 

“Y–you don’t like it…” He whispered the words to himself, as if trying to understand, his eyes red, bloodshot. He and Nova had fought before–fierce, messy fights–but she’d never said “I don’t like it” to him. Never. 

He’d always let her be angry, let her vent, let her throw tantrums. But “I don’t like you” and “I don’t want this” were his worst fears–his unspoken taboos. And 

she knew that. 

Kael’s eyes blazed with red–hot agony. He slammed his fist against the wall, hard enough to split his knuckles. Blood trickled down his hand, but he didn’t feel it. 

Sam arrived a few minutes later. He froze when he saw the scene. His boss–usually so calm, so in control-leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, his 

hand bleeding, his face broken. 

The blood on the wall said it all. Sam guessed he’d fought with Mrs. Voss. 

“Mr. Voss, Mrs. Voss drove home alone…” 

Kael shot him a cold glare. “Why are you telling me this?” 

Sam shivered. This fight must have been worse than he thought. 

Kael took a long drag on his cigarette, then tossed it on the ground and crushed it with his shoe. He walked toward his car, tossing a sentence over his shoulder. 

“Take a taxi back.” 

As soon as Kael stepped into the private room at the nightclub, he grabbed a bottle of liquor and started chugging, no glass, no pause–just raw, unfiltered 

frustration. 

Trent dicked his tongue, leaning back on the couch with a lazy grin. “Wait, I thought you were off setting up that big surprise for Nova? This morning, you were strutting around like you owned the place, and now you look like a deflated balloon. What gives?” 

Kael shot him a glare–sharp enough to make Trent snap his mouth shut mid sentence. He held up his hands in surrender, not daring to push further. 

“Who said it’s about Nova?” Kael mumbled, his voice rough from the alcohol burning down his throat. 

Trent scoffed. “C’mon, man. Who else could knock you off your game like this? You’ve been whipped since college.” 

Kael’s jaw tightened. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him–more of a growl than anything. He snatched his jacket off the couch, didn’t bother with his shoes, and stormed toward the door. 

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Trent called after him, jumping to his feet. “You’re wasted–let me call you a ride!” 

The only response was a loud, definitive slam as the door closed behind Kacl. 

16:27 

He Cried at My Funeral. I Laughed at His Gala 

53.9% 

Chapter 87 Confronting Kael About the Affait! He Panicked 

Nova had figured Kael wouldn’t be coming home that night. She poured herself a glass of warm water, carried it to the bedroom, and sat down at her desk, determined to focus on her design sketches. 

But her mind was too cluttered–thoughts of Kael, the surprise gone wrong, the way he’d snapped at her that morning–kept pulling her away. 

With a heavy sigh, she set down her tablet and opened her laptop. She navigated to an old email account–one she’d used for years to store photos and videos of her and Kael: their first date, graduation day, their wedding, lazy Sundays on the couch. 

Tonight, she was deleting it all. No more holding onto memories that only hurt now. 

Just as she clicked on the first album, a loud, urgent knock thudded against the bedroom door. 

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

“Babe, open up…” Kael’s voice was slurred, thick with alcohol and something else–pleading, almost desperate. It sounded like a lost dog scratching at the door, begging to be let back in. “I’m sorry. I messed up today, okay? I shouldn’t have bought that stupid gift without asking what you wanted. Next time, I’ll ask–promise. Just… don’t be mad.” 

He rambled on, his words tumbling over each other. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That was my fault. I’m an idiot. Please open the door.” 

On the other side of the door, Nova leaned back against the cool wood, her head tilted up to stare at the ceiling. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, 

threatening to spill. 

Memories flooded back–of college, of the dance club they’d both joined. 

It was her birthday, and she’d had to stay late for a rehearsal. Kael had shown up with a gift, a huge teddy bear she’d joked was “too cheesy,” and waited for hours… only to walk in and see her practicing a partner dance with another guy. Their movements had been innocent–just choreography–but Kael had lost it. 

He’d marched over, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her out of the studio, into an empty storage room. He’d kissed her so hard it hurt, his teeth grazing her lower lip until it bled. He’d gripped her waist–right where the other guy’s hand had been during the dance–so tight it left a purple bruise. 

They’d fought that night. A big one. 

Kael had raged about her “getting too close” to someone else; she’d cried, telling him his jealousy was suffocating, that his love felt more like possession than care. And in the heat of it, she’d said the one thing she knew would cut him deep, “I don’t want to like you anymore.” 

He’d gone quiet then. His eyes had turned red, and he’d pulled her into his arms, his body shaking like he was scared she’d vanish if he let go. “I’ll change,” he’d whispered into her shoulder, his voice wet. “Whatever you don’t like–I’ll fix it. Just don’t stop liking me.” 

Nova blinked, and the tears finally fell, sliding down her cheeks. She knew Kael still hated hearing her say those words–still feared losing her. 

But did he know how much he was hurting her now? How empty she felt? How hard it was to keep forgiving him, over and over? 

She could overlook his stubbornness, his occasional grumpiness, even his over–the–top jealousy. 

But cheating? That was her line. The line he’d crossed. 

Click 

The bedroom door unlocked. 

Kael had been waiting so long, he’d finally found his spare key and let himself in. The second he saw her, he stumbled forward and pulled her into a tight hug. his arms wrapping around her waist like a vice–like he was terrified she’d slip away. 

“Baby, don’t be mad anymore…” He nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing her skin in a greedy, drunken kiss. “Talk to me. Please.” 

Nova’s face burned with shame and disgust. She pushed at his chest, her voice trembling with anger. “Get off me! Don’t touch me!” 

But he was drunk–single–minded, unyielding. He didn’t listen. 

His hands fumbled with the collar of her shirt, pulling it aside to kiss her collarbone. 

16:27 

He Cried at My Funeral Laughed at His Cala 

54.10 

Chapter 87 Confronting Karl About the Affair! He Panicked 

Her jacket slipped off her shoulders, landing on the floor with a soft thud. 

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