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2025-04-20 21:35:45
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Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Creeper
Viola McCoy The house is quiet again. Too quiet.Amirah left a few minutes ago—after tea, a lot of pacing, and promises to talk to Kendrick face-to-face. I stood by the front door, watching her drive away, arms wrapped around my waist like that might stop the tremble I didn’t want her to see. As soon as her taillights faded down the street, I closed the door and leaned my back against it, my head tipping back until it hit the wood.Silence stretches through the house.Julian’s gone. Business trip, he said, though he never told me where. No proper goodbye. No apology. Just a warning disguised as a farewell—“Try not to make things worse while I’m gone.”Worse. As if I’m the one lighting matches.I move slowly through the living room, dragging my fingers along the edge of the couch as I pass. My legs are still sore from yesterday, from being yanked up the stairs like I was nothing but weight to be hauled around. I didn’t let Amirah see the bruise on my wrist when she came by. Th
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-21Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Attack
Viola McCoy I’ve been extra careful since the creeper incident a few days ago, locking every door twice, double-checking the windows, sleeping with the hallway light on even though I hate the glow it casts across the wall like shadows trying to crawl in. And hopefully—God, hopefully—Julian is finally coming back from his triptonight. I told myself I’d tell him about the man lurking outside the last time. Even though deep down, I suspected... no, I feared he had something to do with it. But I couldn’t doubt him. He’s my husband. Still is. And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s why the thought ever entered my head at all—that he could be behind something like that. What kind of marriage do you have when you’re afraid of your own partner?A honk blares outside, sharp and sudden, and my spine stiffens.I glance at the clock. 8:02 PM. Of course. Julian. It’s got to be him. I rise from the couch, feeling the soreness still lingering in my back from being locked in that dam
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-22Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Emergency
Logan Reynolds I watch the nurses wheel Viola away, her body limp against the hospital stretcher. Her hair matted, her skin is pale. There’s a smear of blood on her chin, a bruise above her collarbone, and my throat feels like it’s closing up. My heart slams against my ribs, wild, like it’s trying to tear through my chest to get to her.I keep hearing that sound—her body hitting the pavement right before I caught her. One second she was knocking on my door, the next she was collapsing into my arms. I remember the way she whispered my name right before she lost consciousness. The terror in her eyes. The tremble in her voice. I’d shouted her name, trying to wake her up, to keep her with me.God.I should’ve protected her.I carry that weight now, pacing the sterile white hallway of the ER like a madman. Everything feels wrong. Off. I run a hand through my hair and look down at the faint traces of blood still on my shirt. Hers.I should’ve taken it seriously when she told me ab
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-23Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Outburst
Viola McCoy The spoon slips from my fingers the moment I see him.Julian.Standing at the door. The warm laughter that had just filled the room with Bonnie and Logan dies. A coldness slips into the space between us. I can feel Logan’s body shift beside me, subtle but tense.“Vi?” Julian says softly. He takes a step forward.I don’t say a word.Because I’m not sure what version of him I’m getting today. The one who kisses me on the forehead and calls me darling? Or the one who locks doors and drags me by the wrist until my ankles feel like it’d crack?My body instinctively leans closer to Logan. I don’t mean to—it’s not intentional, not performative—but it’s like my ribs remember who was there when I passed out cold in the street. My skin still burns from where the masked man grabbed me, and all I can think is Julian didn’t save me. Logan did.“I didn’t know you were here,” Julian says, eyes scanning the room now. The flowers on the nightstand. The extra chair pulled beside
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-04-24Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Alone
Viola McCoy He didn’t show up. He never has. But this time, I really thought he would. A knot forms at the pit of my stomach. Why did I let myself hope this time? Maybe because I had woken up to Julian, my husband, holding a bouquet of flowers and waiting to hand them to me as soon as I’d woken up.Even though it’s my birthday, I hadn’t expected him to do something special for me. He’s not done something special for me in a long long time. But still, that simple gesture—coupled with the special dinner he’d said he planned for both of us this evening—had made me hope he really meant every word he said.But he didn’t. And now, I’m sitting alone at Chilvary Restaurant, staring at the untouched candle on my cake. I exhale slowly, forcing down the sting of humiliation. I can leave. I should leave. But instead, I continue to sit there, waiting, just like I always do. The restaurant doors swing open, and for a brief, stupid second, I think it’s him. It isn’t. The candle on my c
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-03-05Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine My Life
Viola McCoy I blink through my tears as I drive back home. A part of me is aching but another part of me isn’t surprised. Julian has had a few scandals with a few women over the years which he always denies. So I shouldn’t even feel anything.My grip tightens around the steering wheel as I step on the gas. The cool night air does nothing to make me feel better. What I should feel though, is the urge to run. But I also know I never will because leaving isn’t an option when you have nowhere to go.No family to run to. A spiteful step mother who wants nothing to do with me would never accept me. And my step siblings are no good either. I could run to my parents but they’re both up there. In heaven, probably watching their daughter settle for less and less everyday.So, yes, I keep driving. Past the streetlights, past my pride, past every version of me that deserved better.When I finally arrive at my home—a spiraling penthouse in the heart of Chicago, I let myself breath. Julian’
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-03-05Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine My Past
Viola McCoy The next morning, I wake up around 6am. I turn my head. The space next to me is untouched, the sheets are still smooth. Julian didn’t bother coming upstairs last night. As usual. I shrug, staring at the ceiling. My throat feels a bit sore and my eyelids are heavy. I should get more sleep before I get ready for the office. I still have an hour or so. But I can’t get myself to sleep. Instead, I grab my laptop on the nightstand, sitting up on my bed. I stare at the blinking cursor on my laptop screen for a while. Besides work, writing is the only thing that still belongs to me. The only thing Julian hasn’t controlled. And that’s probably because he doesn’t know about it, nobody does. To the world, I’m a faceless writer with the name Shortstuff002 whose words have reached thousands. My readers love my stories, waiting for each new chapter as if I hold the answers to their own heartbreaks. And maybe, just maybe their positive comments have kept me going until now.I
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-03-05Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Logan Reynolds
Logan Reynolds Viola McCoy still holds her breath when she’s nervous. I shouldn’t have noticed that. Shouldn’t have remembered. But the second I said her name, I saw it—the way her shoulders tensed, the slight hitch in her throat. The way she refused to look at me. I want her to look at me. To say something. The girl I knew would have. She used to joke that her voice was made for radio and her face for the goddamn silver screen. Full lips, high cheekbones, curls that spilled over her tanned shoulders. Blue-gray eyes that always sparked with warmth. Skin that glowed like liquid silk in the sunlight. But that girl is gone. Her hair is straight now even though she used to say she hated straight hair because they were too basic and boring. Her eyes have lost its warmth. She wears crisp white shirts with an expression I can’t quite place.But I see through it. I don’t blame her for pretending I don’t exist. Maybe I don’t, not to her. Three years is a long time. Long e
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-03-05
บทล่าสุด
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Outburst
Viola McCoy The spoon slips from my fingers the moment I see him.Julian.Standing at the door. The warm laughter that had just filled the room with Bonnie and Logan dies. A coldness slips into the space between us. I can feel Logan’s body shift beside me, subtle but tense.“Vi?” Julian says softly. He takes a step forward.I don’t say a word.Because I’m not sure what version of him I’m getting today. The one who kisses me on the forehead and calls me darling? Or the one who locks doors and drags me by the wrist until my ankles feel like it’d crack?My body instinctively leans closer to Logan. I don’t mean to—it’s not intentional, not performative—but it’s like my ribs remember who was there when I passed out cold in the street. My skin still burns from where the masked man grabbed me, and all I can think is Julian didn’t save me. Logan did.“I didn’t know you were here,” Julian says, eyes scanning the room now. The flowers on the nightstand. The extra chair pulled beside
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Emergency
Logan Reynolds I watch the nurses wheel Viola away, her body limp against the hospital stretcher. Her hair matted, her skin is pale. There’s a smear of blood on her chin, a bruise above her collarbone, and my throat feels like it’s closing up. My heart slams against my ribs, wild, like it’s trying to tear through my chest to get to her.I keep hearing that sound—her body hitting the pavement right before I caught her. One second she was knocking on my door, the next she was collapsing into my arms. I remember the way she whispered my name right before she lost consciousness. The terror in her eyes. The tremble in her voice. I’d shouted her name, trying to wake her up, to keep her with me.God.I should’ve protected her.I carry that weight now, pacing the sterile white hallway of the ER like a madman. Everything feels wrong. Off. I run a hand through my hair and look down at the faint traces of blood still on my shirt. Hers.I should’ve taken it seriously when she told me ab
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Attack
Viola McCoy I’ve been extra careful since the creeper incident a few days ago, locking every door twice, double-checking the windows, sleeping with the hallway light on even though I hate the glow it casts across the wall like shadows trying to crawl in. And hopefully—God, hopefully—Julian is finally coming back from his triptonight. I told myself I’d tell him about the man lurking outside the last time. Even though deep down, I suspected... no, I feared he had something to do with it. But I couldn’t doubt him. He’s my husband. Still is. And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s why the thought ever entered my head at all—that he could be behind something like that. What kind of marriage do you have when you’re afraid of your own partner?A honk blares outside, sharp and sudden, and my spine stiffens.I glance at the clock. 8:02 PM. Of course. Julian. It’s got to be him. I rise from the couch, feeling the soreness still lingering in my back from being locked in that dam
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Creeper
Viola McCoy The house is quiet again. Too quiet.Amirah left a few minutes ago—after tea, a lot of pacing, and promises to talk to Kendrick face-to-face. I stood by the front door, watching her drive away, arms wrapped around my waist like that might stop the tremble I didn’t want her to see. As soon as her taillights faded down the street, I closed the door and leaned my back against it, my head tipping back until it hit the wood.Silence stretches through the house.Julian’s gone. Business trip, he said, though he never told me where. No proper goodbye. No apology. Just a warning disguised as a farewell—“Try not to make things worse while I’m gone.”Worse. As if I’m the one lighting matches.I move slowly through the living room, dragging my fingers along the edge of the couch as I pass. My legs are still sore from yesterday, from being yanked up the stairs like I was nothing but weight to be hauled around. I didn’t let Amirah see the bruise on my wrist when she came by. Th
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine News
Viola McCoy The door’s open now. I heard the click around 4 a.m.—not because I was waiting for it, but because I hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling while my thoughts clawed at the inside of my skull. I must’ve blinked a thousand times, hoping one of them would carry me into sleep, into some kind of dream where things didn’t feel this fractured. But it never came.And now, the door is just... open. Like last night never happened. Like the anger, the dragging, the yelling, the fear—I’m supposed to just erase it. Just walk out and go back to normal.I finally shift. My legs are stiff, my back sore. I’ve been curled up in the same position for hours. The wooden floor beneath me has left a dull ache in my hips, but it’s the numbness that gets me—the way I don’t even flinch at it. Today’s Sunday. No office. Not that it would’ve mattered. I don’t have the strength to sit behind a desk, smile at coworkers, pretend everything’s fine. I barely have the strength
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Rare
Viola McCoy Logan and I continue to sit on his car as we stare at the horizon. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have let him sneak me out.But if I had stayed in that house one moment longer, I would’ve lost it completely. I would’ve screamed. Thrown something. Maybe told Julian’s mother exactly what I thought of her sad, tight little smiles and fake compliments. I would’ve told his cousin to keep her uterus-obsessed mouth shut and that the reason we don’t have kids isn’t her damn business. I would’ve said a lot of things I shouldn’t.So maybe sneaking out with Logan wasn’t the worst mistake I could’ve made today.The wind is gentle, cool against my cheeks. The view from here stretches endlessly and the sun has almost dipped past the horizon. I hug myself tighter.I wonder what Julian is thinking right now. Wonder if he’s pacing. Fuming. Wondering where the hell I am. I told myself I’d only be gone for a few minutes, just a breather, but it’s been over an hour. Maybe two. I
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Escape
Logan ReynoldsI should’ve known something was up when Julian invited me over. Never thought he’d reach out to me. If anything, he should be wary of me, not shooting out casual texts saying we’re old friends. And yet, I showed up. Like an idiot. Thinking maybe—just maybe—I’d get to see Viola. Talk to her. See through the cracks in whatever illusion they’re trying to sell as a happy marriage.Now I’m sitting at this long-ass mahogany table, surrounded by a sea of fake smiles and passive-aggressive comments. I regret it already. The air is thick with roasted meat and tension. There’s a massive centerpiece of red roses and golden eucalyptus that looks expensive but smells faintly like mildew. Across from me, Julian’s cousin is twirling her hair around a manicured finger, eyes locked on me like I’m a steak she wants to sink her teeth into.“So… what do you do?” she asks, voice sugar-sweet and clearly rehearsed.I clear my throat, pushing the mashed potatoes around my plate with the
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Dreadful
Viola McCoy For the rest of the day, my mind is a chaotic mess. I’m unable to think of anything besides the scene in the elevator. I tell myself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just tension—claustrophobia, proximity, fatigue. Anything but real. But it’s a lie, and I know it.Still, I manage to get through the rest of my workday without any more intrusive thoughts clawing at me. I focus on spreadsheets, keep my head down, smile at the interns like everything’s normal. Like I’m not completely unraveling on the inside.Julian hasn’t texted all day. Not a single word. But I’m sure he saw the missed calls, saw the timestamp when I got home, saw Logan’s car dropping me off. I wonder what’s running through his mind right now. I want to believe he’ll understand, but who am I kidding? Even I wouldn’t believe me.Even if I keep reassuring him that nothing happened, that it’s not what it looks like... deep down, I know it is what it looks like. Maybe worse.I drive home in silence, hand
Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine Clarity
Logan Reynolds She said it.She said not feeling seen isn’t enough reason to tear down a marriage. And maybe she’s right. Maybe that alone doesn’t justify lighting a match to vows and rings and promises made in front of people who believed them. But I know it’s not just about being seen. There’s more. So much more.Like the way her voice changes when she says his name. Hollow. Or how her hands shake when she thinks no one’s watching. Or the way she looks at me like I’m oxygen in a room that keeps running out of air.And now, we’re stuck. In a goddamn elevator.I lean back against the cold metal wall, arms crossed, trying to breathe past the heat pooling low in my chest. I can still feel the soft imprint of her waist under my hands. The tension in her spine when I touched her. The way her body moved without thinking, grabbing onto me when the elevator shuddered.She’s curled up on the floor now, knees pulled tight to her chest, like she’s trying to make herself disappear. Her he
