Her Ice Heart, His Bitter End

Her Ice Heart, His Bitter End

Rutledge Shepp

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My father arranged my marriage to Liam, the man I' d secretly loved for a decade. But on our wedding night, Liam, seeing only a gilded cage and forced manipulation, turned his back, muttering, "You got what you wanted, Ava." He fled overseas for three years, leaving me to raise our daughter, Grace, alone. He returned with his ex-girlfriend Chloe and her daughter Skylar. Liam shamelessly favored Skylar, explicitly neglecting Grace, even re-gifting Chloe's old scarf to me. Confirmation of his true life came from a public video where he boasted of "peak happiness" with Chloe and her child. My heart, once foolishly hopeful, shattered into ice. The man I loved was a brutal illusion; the one in that video, smiling with another's child, was real. How could he be so utterly cruel to his own flesh and blood, treating me merely as a disposable burden? The final snap came when Grace suffered a severe allergic reaction. Liam, however, prioritized Skylar' s minor heat rash, diverting critically needed specialists. As Grace gasped, her innocent whisper, "Mommy, if Daddy likes Skylar more, it's okay. I just need you," ignited an unbreakable resolve. He would never hurt her again.

Introduction

My father arranged my marriage to Liam, the man I' d secretly loved for a decade.

But on our wedding night, Liam, seeing only a gilded cage and forced manipulation, turned his back, muttering, "You got what you wanted, Ava."

He fled overseas for three years, leaving me to raise our daughter, Grace, alone.

He returned with his ex-girlfriend Chloe and her daughter Skylar.

Liam shamelessly favored Skylar, explicitly neglecting Grace, even re-gifting Chloe's old scarf to me.

Confirmation of his true life came from a public video where he boasted of "peak happiness" with Chloe and her child.

My heart, once foolishly hopeful, shattered into ice.

The man I loved was a brutal illusion; the one in that video, smiling with another's child, was real.

How could he be so utterly cruel to his own flesh and blood, treating me merely as a disposable burden?

The final snap came when Grace suffered a severe allergic reaction.

Liam, however, prioritized Skylar' s minor heat rash, diverting critically needed specialists.

As Grace gasped, her innocent whisper, "Mommy, if Daddy likes Skylar more, it's okay. I just need you," ignited an unbreakable resolve.

He would never hurt her again.

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5.0

The phone felt heavy in my hand, a cold, dead weight. It had been a year since I last heard her voice, a year of silence that felt like a lifetime. My doctor' s words echoed in my head: "Glioblastoma, stage four. I' m sorry, Ethan. We' re talking months, maybe less." I called her, my thumb hovering over the button. "Happy wedding day," I said, pushing the words out. "And the second thing… you once promised that you' d carry my coffin after I die." The line went dead. A week after that promise, Olivia had left me. "I never loved you, Ethan," she had said, her face a mask of indifference. Her words broke me more than the illness ever could. That' s why I was in Zurich, in a sterile room, scheduled to end my life tomorrow. But then I saw her, by the lake, skipping stones, just like we used to. As I took a step towards her, a man came up, wrapping his arm around her waist. Liam Stone. "Olivia' s fiancé," he said, extending a hand. "We' re actually getting married tomorrow." My death day would be her wedding day. The universe had a sick sense of humor. I fled, only to stumble into the path of an oncoming tram. Olivia saved me, pulling me back. But as she pulled me up, her sleeve rode up, and I saw it: a silver bracelet, engraved with "L.S." She had been with him while we were still together. My life, my love, my everything, was a lie. "I' m dying," I told her, hoarse. "I have a brain tumor." Her facade cracked. Then, she asked me for a favor. "I need you to take the photos, Ethan. Just for the ceremony." I agreed, on one condition: "I want a photo. Just one. Of you and me. Together." She agreed, then immediately abandoned me for Liam. At the wedding, she used my origami stars, our special date on her new wedding ring. "It never meant anything, Ethan," she said, her eyes cold. "It was never real." I was numb. I left, heading back to the clinic, my fate sealed. Then, a text from Liam: We could use an extra hand with some last-minute wedding preparations. He was trying to buy my compliance, to turn my final day into a transaction. Fine, I replied. I didn' t know why I agreed. Maybe I needed to burn the image of her happiness into my brain so I could finally let go.

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The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

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