Chapter 13
The guests below the stage were already in shock the moment they saw the coffin.
At first, they thought it was some cruel prank from a rival family. But when they saw Grayson’s reaction–so raw, so unfeigned- they realized the truth. The person in the coffin was indeed today’s bride, Violet.
Everything suddenly made sense. The long delay before the ceremony, the explosive video that had played before the guests‘ eyes. It all pointed to one thing.
Violet had known about Grayson’s betrayal long before today. She had orchestrated the video. She had planned her own funeral to
arrive at the wedding.
The room was filled with murmurs and sighs.
No one had ever imagined that Grayson–the man who always presented himself as devoted and affectionate–would have an
affair. When they learned the truth, it felt like a heavy blow. But their shock was nothing compared to what Violet must have felt.
She had lived inside a beautiful lie for so long, and when the illusion shattered, she could not bear the weight of it.
Perhaps her choice was inevitable. A life, once full of promise, had been extinguished just like that.
The guests who had come in joy now left in silence. One by one, they shook their heads and walked away, until only Grayson
remained. He knelt alone before the coffin.
At the burial, he stood motionless, like a shell of a man. His heart had long since numbed itself to the pain.
Then, as the final shovelful of dirt was about to be cast, something inside him snapped. He lunged forward, eyes bloodshot,
refusing to let them bury her. It took several men to pull him back, to hold him down, to force him to stay still.
And then it was over. All that remained was her name, carved in stone, and a black–and–white smile frozen in time.
He broke free from their grasp, fell to his knees, and leaned against the cold tombstone. His trembling hand traced the three characters of her name. Tears, silent and endless, slid down his face.
“Violet, it was all my fault… I’m sorry.”
But apologies had long lost their meaning. No one was left to hear them.
When Grayson returned home, he was barely more than a walking corpse. His face was hollow, drained of life. He opened the door and stepped inside, only to be struck by an eerie chill. It had only been three days since he was last here, yet the entire house felt as if it had been abandoned for years.
Since Violet had moved in, she had filled the space with warmth. Little trinkets and decorations, things that made a house feel like a home. A floral tablecloth on the dining table. A welcome mat at the door. A framed photo of them on the desk. Matching
toothbrushes in the bathroom.
Now, they were all gone.
