The Ghost Bride's Game Of Revenge

caped, battered and broken. I fought my way back for one reason: my fianc

, his hand holding my pregnant former a

believed her lies that I was a monster. They watched as Der

nd alone, after I had spent five

life and erased my pain. A year later, when a guilt-ridden Derek tracked me

pte

a

und him again. Five years. Five years of hell to

dows and light. The next, a violent shudder rocked us, and the abyss swallowed

es later, whispered in the cold, sterile rooms of my recovery. He tried to end it all.

of his life, searching. He told them he' d rather die than live without me. His voice, raw with grief, echoed in the e

ing as he gripped my father's arm. "If I d

ditions, hiring experts, buying submersible equipment. He chased every whisper, every phantom signal. He lost weight. His clean-shaven fa

pped funding the searches, their faces etched with a grief I couldn't imagine. They moved on, adopting a youn

fifth year. That's when his relentl

e of rescue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a forgotten rhythm. I was weak, starved, my cl

e. The air smelled of salt and damp earth. I saw him. Der

a cry of pure, unadulterated relief, of a love that had defied death.

icker of something I couldn't quite deciphe

s me, but towards a small, remot

trembled violently. Rocks, massive and jagged, rained down fr

d behind a wall of twisted metal and pulverized

settling debris, but the words cut through me like a physical blow. His face w

dy battered and bruised, crum