What Remains of Me

What Remains of Me

Ross Blackwood

5.0
Comment(s)
15
View
13
Chapters

I thought grief would be the hardest thing I'd ever survive-until betrayal ripped what was left of me wide open. My son died in our backyard pool. I was the one who wanted the pool. My husband kissed another woman before my tears had even dried. And my best friend... the one who held me through the nights I couldn't breathe? She had her own secrets buried deep beneath her comforting arms. They broke me. Every single one of them. But I'm not the same woman who wept at the hospital. I've stitched myself together with rage, therapy, and the quiet fire of truth. And just when I think I've escaped it all, life hands me one more twist-a test I never expected... and a new beginning I might not be ready for. This is my story. Of love, of loss. Of choosing myself... even when there's almost nothing left.

Chapter 1 The Deep End

I should have listened to my gut.

The house was way too quiet. That kind of quiet that doesn't feel peaceful-it feels wrong, like the calm before a storm. I remember tossing the dishrag on the counter and calling out, "Jason?" No answer. Not even the sound of splashes or giggles. Just silence.

At first, I wasn't worried. He'd probably gone back inside to grab his toy truck or that blue towel he liked dragging everywhere. But when I stepped outside and saw the gate to the pool wide open, I swear, my heart dropped straight into my stomach.

"Jason!" I screamed this time, louder, panic twisting my voice.

No answer.

And then I saw him.

Face down. Floating.

Everything after that felt like a blur. My legs were moving before I even knew what was happening. I jumped into the water, the chill biting into my skin, but I didn't care. I pulled him out, laid him on the ground, and started screaming his name, begging him to wake up.

He didn't.

I tried CPR. Over and over. My hands were shaking, tears blinding me, but I kept pressing on his chest, breathing into his tiny mouth, begging. Pleading.

"Come on, baby. Please. Mommy's here. Please wake up. Please..."

By the time we got to the hospital, the doctors had already stopped trying.

"Time of death: 3:47 PM."

That's when my world stopped.

My legs gave out under me right there in the hallway. I couldn't scream. I couldn't cry. Couldn't even breathe. Just this deafening silence in my head. Like the world kept moving but I stayed still.

My son was dead. My baby boy. Gone.

And the worst part? It was my idea to build the damn pool. Solace had argued. Said Jason was still too young, that we could wait a few years. But no-I insisted. I wanted him to grow up in a house that felt like summer, like joy. I had visions of pool parties and laughter. Not death.

I killed him.

That thought won't leave me alone.

I sat in the hospital corridor, drenched and trembling, my hands still stained with chlorine and guilt. People walked past me like I didn't exist. Nurses whispered. A mother sobbed in another room. But no one came for me. No one held me.

Not even Solace.

He wasn't there.

I had called him, again and again, but he didn't answer. He never answers anymore.

So I drove. Left my car parked in the emergency lane, left the keys inside, didn't care. I just ran. I needed to see him. I needed answers. I needed to fall into his arms and hear him say it wasn't my fault.

But instead, I got more silence.

And secrets.

I burst through the elevator doors of his office building, ignoring the receptionist calling after me. I wasn't in the mood to sit, to smile, to schedule an appointment. I just needed him.

"Ma'am, you can't go in there!" the assistant snapped, trying to hold me back.

But I'd already pushed past her. I didn't knock. I didn't pause.

I opened the door.

And I saw them.

My husband, Solace.

And her.

Her hands on his face, his lips on hers-his arms around her waist like they belonged there. Their kiss wasn't one of confusion or mistake. It was full. Deep. Familiar.

And it shattered whatever was left of me.

He didn't even see me at first.

I stood there, frozen in the doorway. My whole world collapsed a second time in less than an hour.

It was Cleo. I recognized her. She used to be a name from his stories-a "colleague" who texted a little too much, smiled a little too wide at family parties. I used to laugh it off. How stupid.

Cleo pulled away first, her eyes going wide as she saw me standing there.

"Ella," she whispered.

Solace turned. His mouth parted. He looked stunned, caught, but not sorry.

I didn't speak. I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

I turned and walked out.

The hallway was blurry, or maybe it was just my tears. I couldn't feel my legs, couldn't feel the floor under me. I just kept walking. I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere was better than that room.

I ended up outside, somewhere near the back of the building, where nobody would see me fall apart.

I slumped to the ground and let the sobs take me.

Not soft, pretty tears-the kind that hurt. That crawls up from your chest and wrecks you from the inside out. I couldn't tell which pain was worse-losing Jason... or losing Solace the same day.

It was all too much.

I reached for my phone.

Missed calls but no messages. Just a wallpaper of Jason in his shark pajamas, grinning at the camera, arms outstretched like he was trying to hug me through the screen.

I broke.

"Why did you leave me?" I whispered. "Why did everyone leave me?"

The sky had darkened, but I didn't move. My clothes were still damp. My heart felt heavier than my whole body. It felt like a dream, the type you will want to wake up from quickly. Every part of my body became weak and I felt sick.

I thought of Vicky, my best friend. She had been calling all day, probably worried sick. But I didn't answer. I couldn't talk to anyone. Not now.

Not when the two people I loved most had vanished from me in the same breath.

I leaned my head back against the cold wall and stared at the sky.

I was alone.

Truly alone.

And somehow, I knew... this was only the beginning.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Viviene
4.9

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
4.5

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book