Chapter 347

"I never believed in love at first sight until it happened to me."

Our meeting was like something out of a fairy tale—beautiful, magical, destined. But what followed was nothing short of a nightmare.

He didn’t love me.

I knew that.

Yet, he married me anyway.

That’s why I understood the coldness, the distance, the way he barely looked at me.

He had dreams, ambitions, a whole life planned—one that didn’t include me.

Still, when we stood before the priest, exchanging vows, sliding rings onto each other’s fingers, I cried.

Happy tears.

Foolish tears.

I dreamed of carving out even the tiniest space in his heart, no matter how long it took.

He froze when he saw me sobbing.

Disgust flickered in his eyes, but he wiped my tears away anyway.

Cold hands.

Gentle touch.

That was the moment I fell.

I imagined married life would be different.

Lazy evenings curled up on the couch, watching trashy TV.

Building ridiculous Lego castles together.

Gaming side by side, laughing when we lost.

Feeding stray kittens in the alley behind our apartment.

Him actually eating the meals I cooked.

Then falling asleep in each other’s arms, fingers tangled together.

But reality?

"Wait."

That was his favorite word.

Wait for him to come home.

Wait for him to have dinner.

Wait for him to be free.

Most nights, I fell asleep alone.

Days turned into weeks, then months.

My love for him faded like a dying ember—until he’d smile at me, just once, and it would flare back to life.

A single glance.

A murmured "good morning."

That was all it took to undo me.

Pathetic.

I loved him too much.

chapter Four, Five, Six...

Ethan Blackwood didn’t move as he read.

His grip on the pages tightened.

Every word was a knife twisting deeper.

He never knew Vivian could write like this—raw, honest, devastating.

Their marriage, laid bare in ink.

Her love.

His cruelty.

Her pain.

His indifference.

"Bullshit."

The curse tore from his lips before he could stop it.

No wonder this novel was a bestseller.

Readers probably screamed at the pages, demanding justice for the heroine.

Because it hurt.

Even knowing he was the villain, even hating himself for it, he couldn’t stop reading.

Then—the twist.

A night changed everything.

A baby.

A slow, reluctant thawing of his heart.

"I bumped into him in the kitchen. His cheeks were flushed, breath warm with alcohol. Before I could speak, he cradled my face and kissed me like he meant it."

Ethan’s throat went dry.

The scene burned in his mind, vivid as memory.

He flipped the page, hungry for more—

Only to hit the end.

"Damn it."

He searched frantically, as if she’d hidden the rest somewhere.

But no.

That was it.

The notebook slipped from his fingers.

Four seasons of emotion in a single read.

He never realized how much she loved him.

Or how badly he’d failed her.

Love doesn’t fade overnight.

But now he understood why she walked away.

"Ethan!"

Nathan Prescott burst in, eyes alight. "You’re not going to believe this!"