Chapter 57

“Celeste…”

With eyes dim and red as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, Darson stared at a photo of his former wife from when she was still single.

The picture showed fifteen-year-old Celeste with a broad smile, looking at the camera. She was wearing a simple pink dress that highlighted her glowing complexion. Her hair was styled in waves, reaching down to her waist.

She was such a beautiful woman… who should have been his alone.

“Celeste,” he stroked the picture frame with his thumb. “You’re a lying bitch. You said you would love only me. Where are you now? With another man?”

He had downed countless bottles of alcohol in his rage, and now expensive empty bottles were scattered across the bed he used to share with Celeste.

In his pain, Darson clenched his fist, ready to hit his chest.

“Celeste! Celeste…” He repeated her name over and over, lost in a cycle of frustration and despair.

He seemed irrational, unable to understand why Celeste had left him. He couldn’t grasp why she was now in ano