“Stop it!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
I tried to get in between the brawl but Zayn managed to pull me away from the fighting men.
“They’ll stop when they’re exhausted,” Zayn stated, wincing as he watched his best friend beating my brother like a punching bag.
“Edmund!! Stop it!” I shouted again.
Panic rose to my throat when I caught a glimpse of Raven’s bleeding nose. He may have been an athlete and had a fair share of fistfights with his fellow players back in the day, but he was not a trained fighter.
Edmund, on the other hand, was a black belt holder in both karate and taekwondo. He even boxed whenever he had the spare time. Undoubtedly, he could easily beat my brother to death if he were to get serious.
“He’s drunk. Nobody can stop him,” Zayn mumbled, heaving a deep sigh. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to murder your man.”
My face contorted into a deep scowl. I jerked away from Zayn and ran closer to the fighting duo. Never in my whole life had I imagined that I would have to face this kind of childish behavior from Raven, let alone Edmund, who was always in control of his emotions and temper.
In all the years I have known my ex-husband, this was the first time I had seen him lose his bearings. He might have had a sharp tongue, but he never engaged in fistfights to uphold his reputation and pride. There was something different to the vibe he was giving off when he threw those bottles, as if he had gone to hell and back.
“I’m going to jump in the river if you don’t stop!” I screamed angrily, feeling even more childish for having pulled that lame threat.
To my surprise, they froze and focused their attention on me. My mouth twitched at the sight of their faces—bleeding noses, swollen cheeks, black eyes, and broken lips—they had it all.
I hiccupped. It wasn’t until I tasted my tears that I realized I was crying. I wasn’t even sure if it was because of panic, frustration, or the fact that both men I hold deeply in my heart were fighting like hooligans.
“Please, stop,” I pleaded in almost a whisper, my voice trembling as I fell to the ground. Sobbing pitifully, I hugged my knees and buried my face against my thigh.
“Shit,” Edmund cursed.
“M-Maggie...”
My shoulders shuddered and I couldn’t stop my tears no matter how much I tried. I felt pathetic. It wasn’t that long ago when I swore I would never cry in front of Edmund ever again.
Yet here I am, clenching my chest at the burst of tormenting pain gnawing my insides as I wept helplessly.
His words hurt, but his stares still made me breathless, and his touch still excited my senses. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was still here...
Etched. Engraved. Entwined.
I’ve betrayed myself again.
Completely.
And I hate it. I hate myself for feeling this vulnerable in front of a man who would never regard me the same way I did for him; that even if I plucked out my heart from my chest and offered it to him on a golden platter, he would never, ever look at me the way he looked at Violet.
“I’m sorry, I-I…”
“I didn’t mean to... Please don’t cry…”
I hissed when Raven and Edmund chorused again. I wish I could bump their heads together. Just a few moments ago, they were at each other’s throats, and now they’re apologizing like two clueless children.
Fuck. Were men really this simple-minded?
“Please, just get the fuck away from each other!” I snarled.
I rose to my full height, glaring at the duo while wiping away my tears. Raven scratched the back of his head in embarrassment while Edmund held my gaze expressionlessly.
Impatiently, I dragged Raven away from the arrogant prick to check on his wounds. When I was certain he did not have any serious injury, I furiously pressed my thumb on his busted lips, and he cried like a baby, shoving my hand away.
“Ouch! Ouch!! Maggie, that fucking hurts!”
“Then why did you even start a brawl without certainty of winning?” I scolded, crossing my arms over my chest. “You could have died if he took you seriously!”
Raven’s eyes dilated. He leaned in with his palm over his mouth, and whispered, “Really? He’s that good?”
I felt a headache coming on. Sighing exasperatedly, I pinched his side and whispered back, “He’s a black belter, you idiot. Breaking your neck would have been a piece of cake.”
“Ohh...” was all my brother could mumble, touching his intact neck. “You should have warned me. What will you do if I suddenly die?”
I facepalmed, ready to leave, but before I could take a single step, Edmund’s voice rang out once more.
“Tell me, Margaret. Is he the reason why you suddenly changed your mind about the divorce? This loser? Really?” he mocked, pointing at Raven, his voice laced with hostility.
Edmund ran his fingers through his hair while letting out a bone-chilling laugh. As our eyes met, I saw nothing but anger and confusion in those deep, dark orbs. If I didn’t know better, I might believe that he was furious to see me with another man—jealous even. But I dismissed the thought.
It was impossible.
“So? What is it to you?” I asked coldly.
He scoffed. “I just want to remind you that even if we’re divorced, you were once Mrs Grant. Your every move could affect Global Global’s image and, consequently, the reputation of the Grant family. What would people think if they learned that I was once married to a promiscuous woman like you?”
Unimpressed, I shrugged. “Just like you said, I am no longer your wife, and whatever I do, wherever I go, or with whom I am with doesn’t concern you. Mr Grant, you should look at yourself in the mirror. I doubt my actions will have a significant effect on your company. I’ve been nothing but honest in our marriage. And what of you?”
I paused, took a deep breath, and continued, “So, please… I’d very much appreciate it if could tell the public I’m no longer your wife. I don’t want to receive those sympathetic stares anymore. We’re over, and this title has become more of a burden than a privilege.”
Edmund’s face darkened. “What are you saying?”
“She meant that she never cheated on you like you did to her. So, get the fuck off her face. Understood?” Raven said sharply.
In one swift motion, my brother pulled me away, not giving Edmund another chance to speak. Raven’s steps were large and quick. It wasn't until he pushed me back into the passenger seat of his car, slamming the door shut, that I realized something was wrong.
Uh-oh. He’s furious.
Not wasting time, he started the car as soon as he settled behind the wheel. The entire ride back home was quiet, and I knew perfectly well that a silent Raven Delamar meant I was treading on thin ice.
My brother may appear sensible, but he had a temper that was far worse than mine. Reasoning with him was almost always futile, especially if it involved me.
Truthfully, I only managed to avoid his wrath two years ago when I purposely cut off our communication after I chose to marry Edmund.
“Out with it,” he said once he pulled over the driveway.
I flinched and looked away guiltily. I haven’t told him about Edmund’s illicit affair with Violet, knowing that he would explode in rage. Back when I called him to send a lawyer to draw up the divorce agreement, he didn’t think much and believed when I said that the accident had cleared up my mind.
“Tell me the truth. Is that why you almost got yourself killed? I know you, Margaret. You wouldn’t easily change your decisions without a reason. Since when did you know about his affair?”
Now that the cat was out of the bag, I didn’t have a choice, did I?
About thirty minutes later, I found myself crying my heart out, squeezing a throw pillow in my arms. In my living room, I recounted everything that transpired from the day Edmund asked for a divorce to the incident at the restaurant the other night.
“I... It’s so unfair, Rave… He could have been honest with me. No matter how much he hated me, I deserved his respect...”
“Do you still love him?” Raven asked after a moment of silence, his jaws clenched and hands fisted. The somber look on his face told me he was close to losing his shit.
Oh, well. At least, I’m not alone in this.
I pursed my lips and nodded without hesitation. “Y-Yes… But I’m done. I want to forget him. I want to be okay again.”
He smiled and ruffled my hair. “Then, you do that. Do what you think is best for you. Your brother will take care of the rest.”
The incident by the river convinced me to take a break from the tedious and pretentious city life. After the much-needed venting of my heartbreak and frustration, I booked the next flight back to Westingwood—the small town where Raven and I grew up—and entrusted Macy with the final stages of the renovations for my home. I was a withering rock. The pain and disappointments I was feeling that filled the crevices were trying to keep me in this fragile form. But I have learned to acknowledge and accept my own rough and imperfect edges. So, I did— Going away to experience new things and meeting new people have yielded good results on my end—both psychological and emotional. Some people may label it as cowardly to run and avoid the inevitable, but I've always believed that stepping back from a losing fight was an act of self-respect and self-preservation. Over the past six months, I've dedicated my time to securing sponsors for the Westingwood Orphanage in partnership with the charity fo
“Right. Raven and I grew up together, while Violet is one of my good friends. Now you know two people within my circle,” I confirmed. Smiling gracefully, I held Edmund’s wrist to make him stop his awkward gesture. To my surprise, he didn’t avoid my touch. I stole another glance at Violet. She was biting her lips, her hands clenched into fists, and her eyes plastered on our hands—a clear indication of her displeasure. This made me secretly smile, knowing that I’d successfully pissed the shit out of her. “It seems like I’m going to have to get to know your friends better,” Edmund answered. He even stroked my cheek, almost making me shiver in disgust. What the freak? This wasn’t the man I knew. The Edmund Grant I married was an indifferent human being who saw me solely as a gold-digger, a desperate wife, a pretentious clown. Most importantly, he detested physical contact. Who was this clone, and where did he hide that cheating prick? Or was this one also his minion? I scoffed inw
“You’re back!” I chirped the moment I caught sight of the figure standing by the doorway. Breaking into a bright smile, I felt my heart skip a few beats as I locked my gaze into the person’s deep obsidian orbs. It was my husband—Edmund Grant, looking oh-so-gorgeous in his well-pressed custom navy blue suit. He looked extremely attractive without his eyeglasses, and his loosened tie gave off a bit of a rugged image. With his broad shoulders, lean muscular arms, and long legs, he looked nothing less than a movie star. He was a man with beauty, brains, and charisma. To me, he was perfect, and I was blessed to have him in my life. However, his familiar emotionless, and icy stare told me he thought otherwise. Not once had I ever seen him smile or respond positively to anything involving me. “We need to talk,” he replied flatly, advancing to the carpeted living room. I gulped. This line had been used a gazillion times between couples in real life, books, and movies—and it always meant b
The following day, I met up with my older brother, Raven Delamar, in a café we used to frequent when we were younger. After I married Edmund, we were unable to catch up together since I was too ashamed of my willfulness. Now that my eminent divorce was just around the corner, I felt like a child running back to Mommy with tears in my eyes, voicing out my grievances and the pain that had been plaguing me. In my case, Raven was a dependable person who would willingly take on the world for me without questions asked. “Edmund wants a divorce,” I said numbly. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I recalled how impassive Edmund had been when he broke the news yesterday. I had already recovered from the shock, and my mind had absorbed the reality of the impending doom of my marriage. Momentary disbelief flashed in Raven’s face which was then replaced with a knowing grin. He had warned me several times that a loveless marriage like ours would certainly end in shambles. Back then, I
I left the café with a heavy heart. The knowledge of Edmund’s affair had evaporated the sliver of hope I had unknowingly held onto. With Violet’s return and pregnancy, earning my husband’s sympathy was next to impossible; let alone saving our marriage. Cracking a bitter smile, I drove straight to the mall, feeling like an invisible hand was meticulously tearing off my flesh one piece at a time. And so, just like any other lady, I shopped until I dropped, swiping away Edmund’s card while hoping that it could lessen the pain gnawing at my insides. Truthfully, this was the first time I had ever spent so lavishly since I married into the Grants. But after prancing about for three hours in the expensive designer shops, my phone started vibrating. Sneering, I answered the call, chuckling drily the moment the line connected. “Are you doing this to spite me?” Edmund’s cold, baritone voice rang out. His tone was dripping with annoyance and it had me grinning from ear to ear. The string of m
Two weeks had passed after my staged ‘accident,’ and I was discharged from the hospital with a divorce certificate in hand. When Raven’s lawyer appeared with the divorce agreement, Edmund had no choice but to scribble his signature, seeing my seriousness in the matter. The procedure went smoothly since both parties were determined to go through the process. I hobbled toward the parking area with Mrs Winfrey. Disappointment was written all over her face as she opened the car door for me. “My dear, I can’t believe he’d really let go of you like this.” My lips formed into a cynical smile. “This is nothing, Mrs Winfrey. It’s about time for us to go on separate ways, anyway.” “But you are still unwell! How about you stay home until you are fully healed, Maggie? I’m sure Edmund wouldn’t mind,” she proposed somberly. I smiled and shook my head. “I would love to stay with you. But I can’t. Edmund and I are nothing but strangers now. I can’t be living under the same roof anymore. You know
I spent the next two weeks redecorating the home Raven had gotten for me. With the help of the city's finest designer, Macy Partridge, the theme I had in mind gradually came to life—a regency motif in varied shades of blue, gold, and beige, precisely like the Bridgerton's common room. I've been doing anything and everything that could use up all my spare energy these days. From having meetings with Macy, shopping for necessities, learning to cook new dishes, and even overhauling my wardrobe—I did it all. There were several afternoons when I had gone to old bookstores to collect some books I’d been wanting to read when I was younger. Now that I wasn't required to show up to parties as Edmund's arm candy, I'd have all the time in the world to drown myself in those pages. Unfortunately, there were still those fleeting moments when recollections from my stay at Grant's estate would keep popping back into my mind, causing my mood to drop dramatically. But I never let it bog me. So inst
“I’ve worked with a lot of wealthy women in the past and most of them got an attitude, but Ms Wyatt takes the cake. Did you see her face when Mr Radcliffe firmly dismissed her?” Macy ranted in between small chuckles as she chewed on her Fiorentina steak. We were at my favorite Italian restaurant in the city, enjoying dinner while she chattered away, expressing her displeasure about the ugly encounter. And just like her, I was impressed with how Mr Radcliffe managed to drive that little whining princess away with only a few words. If the old man had not stepped in, I’m certain Lara would have continued harassing the saleslady and might even have gone physical like she had done in the past. “Lara has been spoiled all her life. The incident must have been a blow to her ego,” I answered with a silly grin playing in the corner of my lips. Macy paused. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words left them. Her eyes gradually widened as her attention was drawn to something behind me.
“Right. Raven and I grew up together, while Violet is one of my good friends. Now you know two people within my circle,” I confirmed. Smiling gracefully, I held Edmund’s wrist to make him stop his awkward gesture. To my surprise, he didn’t avoid my touch. I stole another glance at Violet. She was biting her lips, her hands clenched into fists, and her eyes plastered on our hands—a clear indication of her displeasure. This made me secretly smile, knowing that I’d successfully pissed the shit out of her. “It seems like I’m going to have to get to know your friends better,” Edmund answered. He even stroked my cheek, almost making me shiver in disgust. What the freak? This wasn’t the man I knew. The Edmund Grant I married was an indifferent human being who saw me solely as a gold-digger, a desperate wife, a pretentious clown. Most importantly, he detested physical contact. Who was this clone, and where did he hide that cheating prick? Or was this one also his minion? I scoffed inw
The incident by the river convinced me to take a break from the tedious and pretentious city life. After the much-needed venting of my heartbreak and frustration, I booked the next flight back to Westingwood—the small town where Raven and I grew up—and entrusted Macy with the final stages of the renovations for my home. I was a withering rock. The pain and disappointments I was feeling that filled the crevices were trying to keep me in this fragile form. But I have learned to acknowledge and accept my own rough and imperfect edges. So, I did— Going away to experience new things and meeting new people have yielded good results on my end—both psychological and emotional. Some people may label it as cowardly to run and avoid the inevitable, but I've always believed that stepping back from a losing fight was an act of self-respect and self-preservation. Over the past six months, I've dedicated my time to securing sponsors for the Westingwood Orphanage in partnership with the charity fo
“Stop it!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I tried to get in between the brawl but Zayn managed to pull me away from the fighting men. “They’ll stop when they’re exhausted,” Zayn stated, wincing as he watched his best friend beating my brother like a punching bag. “Edmund!! Stop it!” I shouted again. Panic rose to my throat when I caught a glimpse of Raven’s bleeding nose. He may have been an athlete and had a fair share of fistfights with his fellow players back in the day, but he was not a trained fighter. Edmund, on the other hand, was a black belt holder in both karate and taekwondo. He even boxed whenever he had the spare time. Undoubtedly, he could easily beat my brother to death if he were to get serious. “He’s drunk. Nobody can stop him,” Zayn mumbled, heaving a deep sigh. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to murder your man.” My face contorted into a deep scowl. I jerked away from Zayn and ran closer to the fighting duo. Never in my whole life had I imagined that I would ha
“I’ve worked with a lot of wealthy women in the past and most of them got an attitude, but Ms Wyatt takes the cake. Did you see her face when Mr Radcliffe firmly dismissed her?” Macy ranted in between small chuckles as she chewed on her Fiorentina steak. We were at my favorite Italian restaurant in the city, enjoying dinner while she chattered away, expressing her displeasure about the ugly encounter. And just like her, I was impressed with how Mr Radcliffe managed to drive that little whining princess away with only a few words. If the old man had not stepped in, I’m certain Lara would have continued harassing the saleslady and might even have gone physical like she had done in the past. “Lara has been spoiled all her life. The incident must have been a blow to her ego,” I answered with a silly grin playing in the corner of my lips. Macy paused. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words left them. Her eyes gradually widened as her attention was drawn to something behind me.
I spent the next two weeks redecorating the home Raven had gotten for me. With the help of the city's finest designer, Macy Partridge, the theme I had in mind gradually came to life—a regency motif in varied shades of blue, gold, and beige, precisely like the Bridgerton's common room. I've been doing anything and everything that could use up all my spare energy these days. From having meetings with Macy, shopping for necessities, learning to cook new dishes, and even overhauling my wardrobe—I did it all. There were several afternoons when I had gone to old bookstores to collect some books I’d been wanting to read when I was younger. Now that I wasn't required to show up to parties as Edmund's arm candy, I'd have all the time in the world to drown myself in those pages. Unfortunately, there were still those fleeting moments when recollections from my stay at Grant's estate would keep popping back into my mind, causing my mood to drop dramatically. But I never let it bog me. So inst
Two weeks had passed after my staged ‘accident,’ and I was discharged from the hospital with a divorce certificate in hand. When Raven’s lawyer appeared with the divorce agreement, Edmund had no choice but to scribble his signature, seeing my seriousness in the matter. The procedure went smoothly since both parties were determined to go through the process. I hobbled toward the parking area with Mrs Winfrey. Disappointment was written all over her face as she opened the car door for me. “My dear, I can’t believe he’d really let go of you like this.” My lips formed into a cynical smile. “This is nothing, Mrs Winfrey. It’s about time for us to go on separate ways, anyway.” “But you are still unwell! How about you stay home until you are fully healed, Maggie? I’m sure Edmund wouldn’t mind,” she proposed somberly. I smiled and shook my head. “I would love to stay with you. But I can’t. Edmund and I are nothing but strangers now. I can’t be living under the same roof anymore. You know
I left the café with a heavy heart. The knowledge of Edmund’s affair had evaporated the sliver of hope I had unknowingly held onto. With Violet’s return and pregnancy, earning my husband’s sympathy was next to impossible; let alone saving our marriage. Cracking a bitter smile, I drove straight to the mall, feeling like an invisible hand was meticulously tearing off my flesh one piece at a time. And so, just like any other lady, I shopped until I dropped, swiping away Edmund’s card while hoping that it could lessen the pain gnawing at my insides. Truthfully, this was the first time I had ever spent so lavishly since I married into the Grants. But after prancing about for three hours in the expensive designer shops, my phone started vibrating. Sneering, I answered the call, chuckling drily the moment the line connected. “Are you doing this to spite me?” Edmund’s cold, baritone voice rang out. His tone was dripping with annoyance and it had me grinning from ear to ear. The string of m
The following day, I met up with my older brother, Raven Delamar, in a café we used to frequent when we were younger. After I married Edmund, we were unable to catch up together since I was too ashamed of my willfulness. Now that my eminent divorce was just around the corner, I felt like a child running back to Mommy with tears in my eyes, voicing out my grievances and the pain that had been plaguing me. In my case, Raven was a dependable person who would willingly take on the world for me without questions asked. “Edmund wants a divorce,” I said numbly. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I recalled how impassive Edmund had been when he broke the news yesterday. I had already recovered from the shock, and my mind had absorbed the reality of the impending doom of my marriage. Momentary disbelief flashed in Raven’s face which was then replaced with a knowing grin. He had warned me several times that a loveless marriage like ours would certainly end in shambles. Back then, I
“You’re back!” I chirped the moment I caught sight of the figure standing by the doorway. Breaking into a bright smile, I felt my heart skip a few beats as I locked my gaze into the person’s deep obsidian orbs. It was my husband—Edmund Grant, looking oh-so-gorgeous in his well-pressed custom navy blue suit. He looked extremely attractive without his eyeglasses, and his loosened tie gave off a bit of a rugged image. With his broad shoulders, lean muscular arms, and long legs, he looked nothing less than a movie star. He was a man with beauty, brains, and charisma. To me, he was perfect, and I was blessed to have him in my life. However, his familiar emotionless, and icy stare told me he thought otherwise. Not once had I ever seen him smile or respond positively to anything involving me. “We need to talk,” he replied flatly, advancing to the carpeted living room. I gulped. This line had been used a gazillion times between couples in real life, books, and movies—and it always meant b