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 foundation I co-established with Edmund’s grandmother—the Amber Grant Foundation.
Living away from everything that could remind me of Edmund has allowed me to accept reality wholly. I may not be able to confidently declare that I’ve moved on, but I was certainly in a better place emotionally.
This time, I was better and stronger.
“You look great! You’re no longer skin and bones!” Raven crooned, assaulting me with a bear hug and ruffling my hair as he locked his arm around my neck, playfully choking me.
What the hell? I’d been gone for half a year, and he was back to being the crazy big brother bully.
“I know you missed me to death. But let me remind you, murder is still a crime. Get off!” I grumbled.
He laughed, grabbed my luggage, and led me back to his car. We chatted a bit until I dozed off as we headed downtown. The flight back to Pearl City took about three hours, and I was exhausted since I was never the type to nap while flying.
After nearly thirty minutes, Raven pulled over in the parking lot of the Grand Palace Hotel, the biggest five-star hotel in Pearl City. We went straight to the restaurant, catching up while helping ourselves with the exquisite food.
I was telling him about the ongoing construction of a new elementary school in Westingwood and my plans to build a sports complex that could hold big events when a familiar voice called out my name.
“Margaret? Maggie, is that you?”
My back stiffened momentarily, but I quickly recomposed myself and turned my head to where the voice was coming from.
It was Violet, dressed in a white off-shouldered dress, looking like a little fairy with her hair pulled into a messy bun. I took a few seconds to admire her beauty until my gaze landed on her flat belly. She was not showing yet. Was it because she had been looking after her figure despite being pregnant?
“Violet,” I acknowledged, letting out a controlled smile.
Even though I’d seen her three times since her return to the country, this was our first face-to-face encounter. She darted across the room like a bullet, pulling me into a tight hug and planting a kiss on my cheek, as if she were reuniting with a long-lost best friend.
My mouth twitched at the hypocrisy. Her words in the cafe’s restroom two months ago still lingered in my mind; her excitement and determination to oust Edmund’s wife were so vivid I could recite them word for word. There was no way in hell that she didn’t know that Edmund married me, considering I had been photographed with him countless times.
Seeing her acting like this was extremely disgusting. Did she think I was blind to their affair?
“Look at you, all pretty and sexy! It’s really true when people say that a woman glows when she’s with a man who adores her!” Violet said, her words laced with sarcasm as she eyed Raven, who was watching me with a raised brow.
One would assume she was a good friend, congratulating me on finding love. But I knew Violet Mitchell like the back of my hand—maybe even better than Edmund did. Behind that mask of innocence and beauty was a woman capable of backstabbing a friend just to get ahead.
She was the typical representation of a desperate little bitch.
I swallowed a scoff, realizing that she just tried to paint me as a cheater. I smiled politely and did not bother to correct her wrong assumptions. First, it was Edmund. Now, his little chick was thinking the same.
Oh, well. ‘Birds of the same feather are the same birds.’
“Long time no see. How was it working as the foreign correspondence of CNB News? You must have had a blast in Africa!”
Violet gasped exaggeratedly. Her surprised expression was obviously fake, but she managed to look as flattered as possible. “How did you know?”
Sneering inwardly, I took a mental note of the fact that she hadn’t changed much—still a narcissist.
“Of course, I know! Who doesn’t watch the news? We may have drifted apart all these years, but I still remember how much you wanted to be a news anchor,” I explained, flashing a knowing grin as I waved my hand.
Shooting Raven a meaningful glance, I guided Violet to sit on the empty chair beside me. If she wanted to play this hypocritical game, I’d be happy to engage.
Why? Because I hold grudges. And I’m not an idiot to give her the satisfaction of thinking that she had taken away something from me—again.
“No wonder you look familiar. Raven Delamar,” my brother spoke in almost a drawl, extending an arm for a handshake, which Violet accepted. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms Mitchell. You are so much better looking in person than on TV,” he added.
“Thank you. The pleasure is mine, Mr Delamar. Maggie and I have been friends back in college. She’s a lovely lady, isn’t she?” Violet chirped, her voice a pitch higher. She batted her lashes and coyly lowered her head, feigning embarrassment.
Geez. Even her tricks to charm guys remained the same.
I rolled my eyes when she started paying more attention to Raven like she had not just assumed that he was my boyfriend seconds ago. But then again, what could I expect from a woman who even slept with a married man?
“What about you, Vi? Are you married? Dating someone?” I prompted, lifting my glass of orange juice, feigning ignorance.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Edmund’s familiar figure entering the restaurant. He was still as dashing as the last time we met. But for the first time, the usual burning ache in my chest was no longer there. I was calm and composed, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face if he caught his woman flirting with someone else.
Our gazes locked and his brows slightly furrowed upon seeing Violet sitting at our table. When he saw Raven across from me, his eyes immediately darkened, and his jaws clenched.
Was he not over their brawl until now?
How petty.
I smiled at him politely and lightly kicked my brother’s leg under the table, warning him to not engage in another brawl.
“I wish I was! I was so focused on my career these past three years, and I didn’t have time to find a good man. Now that I’m back, I’m determined to win back the love of my life,” Violet answered confidently, quickly rising to her feet when Edmund halted near us. She then shamelessly clung onto his arm affectionately.
It was a deliberate declaration of war.
Unfortunately, there was no more battle to fight. What she had was a man who was merely a part of my past, no longer holding a significant position in my life.
“Ed! I didn’t expect to see you here, too! Maggie and I were just catching up together and talking about the days when we were in college. She helped me a lot back then. If it weren’t for her, I might not be where I am today,” Violet said, sounding almost grateful for meeting me in this lifetime.
I almost choked on my drink upon hearing her words. Edmund was one of the shareholders of the Grand Palace Hotel. It was a known secret that he always had his luncheon meetings here. And given that it was a weekday, he must have come here with a client.
Edmund hummed in acknowledgment, watching me intently, to which I reciprocated with a shrug. “I didn’t know you had such a good relationship with my wife. She never told me anything about it.”
Violet’s expression immediately turned sour when Edmund pushed her hand away, but quickly concealed it with a grin.
Did he not tell her that we’ve already split up?
I clicked my tongue. “You never asked.”
“Do I have to?” he asked back.
“You’re too busy to even care about the past,” I retorted sneakily, glancing at Violet whose face officially contorted into a deep scowl.
One thing was for sure: Edmund hadn’t told his mistress about our divorce yet.
I didn’t know what his motives were but if his little skit would help me rub salt on Violet’s wounded ego, I’d take the chance.
“As your husband, it would have been nice if I knew the people important to you. Don’t you agree? How was your trip in Westingwood?”
Edmund took one step closer to me, settled next to the chair Violet had vacated, and placed his arm atop the backrest of my seat, assuming a very awkward—and somewhat intimate—position.
“Mr Grant, we meet again,” Raven snarled, eyeing me inquisitively.
I was just as confused as he was so all I could do but shake my head, speechless.
“Thank you for picking up my wife from the airport, Mr Delamar. She’s lucky to have a caring friend like you,” Edmund asserted, making the rest of us go quiet. He grabbed the napkin from my hand and carefully wiped the corner of my lips like he had done this a thousand times before.
I froze, feeling my skin crawl. What the fuck is going on?
“However, I’d like to remind you that it wouldn’t be good for either of us if people saw you together too often. My wife is a kind woman and she always found it difficult to reject people. So, I hope you do not misunderstand the kindness she is showing you.”
“Ed—” Violet's words were cut off by Raven.
“I don’t know about you. But Maggie and I have been tight since we were children. I know things about her that you don’t. We’re part of each other. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”
Blood rushed to my brain when I felt their gazes falling back on me.
Unwilling to respond to the childish question, I frantically scanned the room and noticed that there were fewer people. The tension was so thick, and I could already imagine what kind of disaster it would be if Raven and Edmund decided to start fighting in broad daylight.
Ugh. What a headache!
“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.
“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
“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