The Love Has Expired
On my fiftieth birthday, my grandson pouted when he saw the present I had given him and complained, “Grandma Cecil at the Emerald Manor has a cooler present for me. It was a Transformer toy that flies.”
I was confused by this remark.
Emerald Manor was one of the wedding gifts offered when I got married. My husband was not fond of this place because it was too far away from the city, so I have rarely been here as well, and it has been vacant ever since.
As we stood outside the manor, I could hear the cheery voices coming from inside the house. My husband and my adopted son were inside celebrating the birthday of the owner of the manor.
The Grandma Cecil my grandson referred to was the childhood sweetheart of my husband, Cecil Houston, who was married off far away a long time ago. She remained as beautiful as she once was and was snuggled in my husband’s arms, surrounded by my children.
I have dedicated myself to the Blightwells for two decades. This entire time, Cade has taken my commitment as nothing but a joke.
When I was reincarnated, I found myself on the wedding day. I listened to the clamoring noises and lifted the veil to see the commotion. It was time to start over.
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