His Bride Was My Sister, Everyone Betrayed Me Chapter 07

His Bride Was My Sister, Everyone Betrayed Me Chapter 07

I was sitting in my New York office, eating a warm lunch.

Across from me was Aldric–the magazine’s owner

He watched me with a faint smile.

“Good?”

“Yeah. Your mom’s cooking keeps getting better.”

I bit into the chicken leg and meant it.

“Eat up. It’ll make her happy.”

He relaxed and took a sip of coffee.

“When I saw you last week, I barely recognized you.

“You were pale as paper. You look better now.”

“My mom’s probably pretty proud of herself.”

A warmth spread through me. I nodded and went back to my soup.

A week ago, I’d collapsed outside the hospital after giving blood.

Aldric happened to be visiting a client and found me.

Turns out, the elusive owner of the magazine was him.

Also–he was an old friend.

His mother and mine had been close. We used to play together as kids.

Then his family moved to New York, and we lost touch.

When his mother heard I was here, she took me in like her own daughter. S

he came to the hospital with homemade meals.

Even after I started working, she sent Aldric with lunch every day.

After we finished eating, Aldric left for a client meeting.

I dove back into work.

With his help, things had gone smoothly.

New York was the heart of magazine publishing.

The style here was more modern, more diverse.

New York had its own women’s weekly. It was all about female independence.

But it had stopped printing a while back–sales had dropped.

My job was to bring it back.

A month later, the new issue hit stands.

I called the first edition “Trust.”

I wrote my own story into it.

About how to protect yourself without losing your heart.

Maybe because it was real, it took off.

Readers said they saw themselves in it. Found strength in it.

Aldric threw a party to celebrate.

That night, I felt happier than I had in a long time.

The feeling lasted until I reached my apartment building–and saw the familiar figure waiting

outside.

Leith.

A month had passed.

He looked hollow. Thin.

His wrinkled shirt hung loose on his frame, like he might blow away in the wind.

When he saw me, his eyes lit up.

He walked toward me quickly.

“Elara… how are you…”

He stopped a few feet away. He lifted his foot, then set it back down.

Like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to come closer

I smiled. “I’m good.”

I really was.

No more waking up at five to make his breakfast.

No more ironing his shirts. No more sorting his files.

For the first time, I realized how good life could be when it was just mine.

He looked at me, his lips trembling.

“Then… do you ever think about coming back?”

His voice was low–like he already knew how ridiculous the question sounded.

He dropped his head.

“I filed for divorce from Lyra. I know everything now!

“I used to think we shouldn’t punish her for what her mother did.”

“I thought you were biased against her. But I was wrong.”

“She spilled that drink on purpose. She made it look like you pushed her.”

“She made you give her your blood-”

His voice cracked.

“And our child…”