Chapter 3

3.

"Dad, I can't believe how petty you're being."

"Mom just wanted to be with Arlo. Is that really worth all this drama?"

"I really misjudged you. I thought your love for her was unconditional."

"No wonder Mom never loved you. She only had eyes for Arlo."

Yvonne's voice got louder. She pulled out her phone and shoved a photo in my face.

"Look at this. Look how happy she was with Arlo."

"She never smiled like that with you. She finally gets to be with her soulmate, and you're acting like a monster!"

"You're going to leave her bones in a wasteland? How am I supposed to visit her?"

The photo showed Sienna in her thirties.

She was wearing a sundress, her face glowing with a radiant smile I had rarely seen. Arlo was standing beside her at the beach, his arm around her waist.

Yvonne was right. She never looked that happy with me.

But she was the one who pursued me. She was the one who insisted on marriage.

Everything she did, she did of her own will.

I didn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve this.

The rage peaked. I grabbed a heavy stone from the ground and slammed it down onto the tangled bones of Sienna and Arlo.

A sickening "crack" echoed through the rain. It was the sound of bone splintering.

My mind flashed back to our wedding day.

She had looked me in the eye and said, "Alistair, I'll love you forever. I'll be your best friend and your faithful wife until the end."

But later, she grew cold.

She was always away on "business trips," leaving me alone.

I thought it was just a midlife crisis or stress.

Now I knew. She never loved me. Our entire marriage was a performance.

"Alistair! You animal! What the hell are you doing?"

Yvonne screamed my name, dropping the "Dad" entirely.

I looked at her with pure disappointment.

I had sacrificed my youth to give her a life of luxury. I paved her way so she'd never have to struggle like I did.

And here she was, defending a stranger over her own father.

Before I could speak, she rushed forward and shoved me hard. I slipped on the wet mud and fell.

She pointed a finger at me, her face contorted with hate.

"I've never met anyone as cold-blooded as you. Mom did nothing wrong!"

"I hope you rot. I hope you go to hell!"

"Mom and Arlo will haunt you for the rest of your miserable life!"

I sat there in the mud, rain lashing against my face. Her words stung more than the cold.

The fire in my heart turned into a dull, aching throb. I could barely breathe.

My butler, Marcus, rushed over with an umbrella.

"Sir, please, don't let her get to you."

"You've worked so hard to mend your relationship with her."

He helped me up and pressed my blood pressure medication into my hand.

Through the rain, Yvonne's face looked like a blurry mask of malice.

Suddenly, my mind drifted back ten years.