This was the same Celeste Hartwell who used to stand up for me in school, fists on her hips, forcing bullies to apologize when they mocked my grades.
After we married, she became even more protective—once, when she scraped her fingertip, I’d tried to bandage it, but she’d insisted on holding my hand and blowing on my finger instead.
I used to believe her love would last forever.
That we would last forever.
“Celeste…” I murmured, my voice hoarse.
She spun around, eyes wide, a flicker of hope sparking in them.
I tried to stand, but collapsed hard onto the floor.
Pain radiated from my chest, and Alden’s mutilated body flashed before my eyes once more.
Clutching my shirt, I looked up—just as the door creaked open.
Damien.
He hadn’t left after all.
He stood in the doorway, peeking through the crack. His eyes locked onto mine, lips curling into a smirk. Then he raised a finger to his mouth:
Shhh.
“What were you about to say?” Celeste asked, still watching me.
I hesitated.
She stepped closer.
“Say it. You must have something to tell me.”
“Sir?” Damien called out from the hallway, tone light.
Celeste’s body tensed—but she didn’t leave. She waited.
I glanced at Damien’s feigned look of concern. Slowly, I reached behind me and pulled out a box of Ritz crackers. I held it out.
“Don’t forget this.”
Celeste stared at it in disbelief. Her anger boiled over.
She snatched the box and flung it at my face.
“You bastard!” she snapped, turning on her heel and storming off.
Damien reached for the doorknob and, with deliberate care, closed the door.
He lingered a moment, red lips lifting in satisfaction. Then—slam. The lock clicked shut.
I sagged against the wall, fingers gripping my shirt.
No… not yet. Just wait. Wait a little longer.
---
I searched every corner of the massive manor before finding a small, dusty first aid kit. I patched myself up as best I could.
For an entire month, Celeste didn’t come home.
Then one day, the front door burst open with a loud bang.
Celeste stumbled in, supporting a bloodied Damien. Behind her, a private medical team rushed in—the same elite team that had once been assigned to me, back when Alden was alive.
They had been dismissed after his death.
Now, they were back—but not for me.
I leaned weakly against the wall, watching the scene unfold.
Celeste turned to me, eyes wide with accusation.
“Why did you push him down the stairs?” she demanded.
I blinked, stunned.