Heart's Sorrow Unboxed

Chapter 4

Word Count: 729 | Released on: 27/06/2025

. It was a small, simple act, but it felt monumental. It was a physical barr

n, more forcefully. I lay in bed, my eyes open in the darkness, and listened. There was a long silence.

e but never truly control. I spread them across the desk and started going through them, line by line. My mind, which had been clouded by grief and confusion for so long, was now sharp

d "Willow Arts." The name

The betrayal was old news. Now, it was about damage control and strategic planning. I made notes, highlighting ever

were sitting on a stone bench by the koi pond. It was a scene ripped directly from my past life, a memory that had once caused me so much

and had run back to the house, my heart in pieces. I

riosity. I saw the way Vivian leaned into him, the calculated nature of her distress. I saw the

se, of being the white knight, and he gave her financial and emotional

y before they could see

could hear the maids whispering

t of the room, can

her. It' s that Vivian. She'

ly, but they have nothing left. Mrs. Hayes is

oper lady, but she has no fi

een a proper lady, molded and shaped to fit the role of the wife of a wealthy man. I had suppressed my own fire, my own ambitions, to

n being proper. She was interested in being free. And she was interested in reclaiming what was hers. The fire they s

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Heart's Sorrow Unboxed

C.D Romance

“The world slammed back into me in a dizzying rush. One moment, oblivion. The next, I was back in a familiar bed, the sun warm, the scent of roses faint. My heart seized at the June 12th calendar-the day it all began to unravel in my first life, the day before Richard announced he was funneling our savings into his first love' s art gallery. Then he walked in, handsome and dismissive, still my husband, yet a stranger. The sight of him brought nothing but a hollow echo. I stood by the fireplace, a silent observer as Vivian Hayes, ethereal and artfully fragile, entered the room, captivating Richard with a tenderness he' d never shown me. Later, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place: a beautifully wrapped gift, a silver hairpin "Heart' s Sorrow," a sketch Vivian had made, fumbled into my hands by a clearly distracted Richard. My husband had handed me a gift meant for his artistic mistress, the one he had always loved more. The bitter taste of betrayal choked me. This time, I closed the box and pushed it back across the table. "I think you' ve made a mistake," I said, my voice clear as a bell, shattering the forced cheer of the family dinner. The silence was deafening, Margaret' s smile frozen, Richard' s jaw tight, Vivian' s face a mask of shock. I placed my napkin on the table, the desire for divorce no longer a desperate plea, but a cold, final business decision. "If you'll excuse me," I said, walking away from the stunned table, leaving behind the wreckage of a life I was no longer willing to live. I was alive, I was back, and this time, I was going to rewrite my own story.”