The day Vanessa Carter’s first love, Marcus Delaney, returned to the States, I set fire to our Wedding Manor. Apart from the twins she bore me, I took nothing else. Years ago, when she was gravely ill and in desperate need of a kidney transplant, I unhesitatingly donated mine. But she always believed I schemed to marry her by any means necessary, ruining her relationship with Marcus. Now, I’ve given up and faked my death to leave. Yet when she learned of my supposed death, it shattered her. ### Chapter 1 Thanksgiving is a time for family reunions, and it also marks the twins’ birthday. After much pleading from Noah and Ava, Vanessa finally agreed to come home for the celebration. When she offhandedly mentioned she wanted homemade food, I pushed through the fever gnawing at me and made a table full of dishes. Now, the food sat cold, and the twins refused to leave the table, clutching their birthday cake, eyes wide and hopeful. Vanessa never came. Dizzy and with my head pounding, I forced down a handful of fever-reducing pills before heading out. I knew where she was. Whenever she felt unsettled, she sought solace in conversations with her closest friends. The courtyard of The Carter Estate was lit by soft garden lights, and I spotted Vanessa drinking and laughing with her friends. “Marcus is coming back, Vanessa. What about that man you married, Liam Westfield, and the twins? How do you plan to deal with them?” My hand froze mid-knock, suspended between decision and regret. Vanessa’s flawless features, caught between light and shadow, looked tense. “Divorce. He’ll take the kids. Marcus doesn’t need the complication.” Her response was cold and definitive, though I’d expected it. If it hadn’t been for her grandfather’s deathbed demand that she marry me, Marcus would never have disappeared overseas. Vanessa protested our wedding by vanishing herself. An unwelcome son-in-law and a bride who fled on her wedding day—overnight, I became the town’s laughingstock. We spent a year after that apart. Then, a reckless night led to the birth of our twins. The moment they were born, Vanessa rejected them, snapping at the nurse to take them away without so much as a glance. They were, after all, reminders of her betrayal of Marcus, her true love. When she agreed to come home for the twins’ birthday, I foolishly thought that the icy exterior might finally be thawing. Amid the silence, one of her friends spoke up. “Your husband’s been good to you, Vanessa. Even after his family’s downfall, he used his connections to secure resources for you. He hasn’t even fully recovered from his health issues and still drank with clients until he bled internally to help build your company.” That was quickly countered by another voice. “Please. Vanessa could have done just as well without him. If that spineless man hadn’t pushed his kidney on her out of some misguided sense of heroism, her grandfather wouldn’t have forced her into marrying him. She and Marcus lost years over it.” “A kept man acting like he’s still the elite heir he once was—she should’ve ditched him ages ago.” A sharp pain twisted in my chest as Vanessa’s cool voice cut through. “Enough about him. More drinks.” Another friend smirked and spoke in a teasing tone. “Liam was quite the catch back then. Since you’re not keeping him, why not share with the rest of us? Like hiring a model for a night?” Laughter followed. Vanessa said nothing, only tipping back her glass of champagne until it was empty. ### Chapter 2 My life has always felt like a series of wrong turns, veering wildly off course, always headed into a blizzard. I first met Vanessa at the Annual Philanthropy Gala hosted at my family’s estate. Back then, I was the heir of the powerful Westfield family, and Vanessa was just a small start-up owner who had tagged along on a friend’s invitation. Among the items up for auction were my own paintings. Wealthy attendees bid fiercely, eager for a chance to align themselves with my family. But only one young woman stood in the corner, captivated by the artwork itself. The painting was titled “Mother,” my most cherished piece. When I caught her teary-eyed gaze, Vanessa stepped back, her expression vulnerable. “Mr. Westfield, your work is beautiful, but I can’t afford it.” A spark fluttered in my chest and roared into a wildfire. I later learned that Vanessa’s parents had died young, leaving her to be raised by her grandfather. That painting struck a chord with her, so I gifted it to her, beginning a six-year infatuation. Despite her aloofness, Vanessa never outright refused me, letting my hopes linger. I believed I could win her over with sincerity. I connected her with top industry opportunities, watching her company thrive. But when my family collapsed, I was the sole survivor, left only with my living body. Ignoring Aunt Helen’s desperate pleas, I donated my kidney to Vanessa. The complications nearly cost me my life, forcing me to abandon my art. Mr. Carter, aware of how indebted their family was to me, coerced Vanessa into marrying me as his final wish. She couldn’t refuse, but only on the condition that I marry into her family. I discovered after our marriage that the husband she longed for was always Marcus. Her heart’s only allegiance was to him. That Thanksgiving, Vanessa returned home drunk for the first time. I only meant to help her to bed, but she pulled me close, her grip tightening like a serpent. “Kiss me,” she whispered. In that moment of weakness, I made a mistake. When dawn broke, she slapped me, eyes wet with rage. “Was marrying me not enough for you? You had to stoop to this? Pathetic.” From the start, it had always been wrong. I should have left then. ### Chapter 3 I dragged myself back to The Carter Estate, the prison that bound me and Vanessa together. The twins were awake, clinging to my legs. “Dad, did Mom come back?” They dashed to the front door, their faces falling when they saw it was empty. Noah’s cheeks flushed as he burst into tears. “Does Mom not want us anymore?” My heart clenched in unbearable pain as I knelt to hold them. “Dad wants you. Would you come with me?” I couldn’t tell them that their mother didn’t want them, that we were obstacles to her happiness. Ava, wise beyond her years, patted my shoulder. “Don’t be sad, Dad. Wherever you go, we go.” Once I finally got them to sleep, I stumbled into the bathroom and let the cold water wash over my face, masking the relentless tears. The sound of the water drowned out my sobs, preserving the last shred of my dignity. They had never known a moment of joy as my children. Vanessa had tried to terminate the pregnancy repeatedly until the doctor warned that it would render her infertile. She relented only because she wanted to have Marcus’s child one day. When the twins were born, she turned away in disgust, demanding the nurse take them away. I played the roles of both father and mother, raising them alone. In public, she denied their existence. When they called her “Mom,” they were met with reprimands. They were her children, yet she treated them worse than strangers. Each time they asked when she would return, I conjured up another flimsy excuse until even they lost faith and said, “Dad, you’re always lying.” Leaving would be our salvation. That night, as if remembering a forgotten promise, Vanessa returned. I was packing when her voice, cool and laced with alcohol, cut through the silence. “What are you doing?” I turned to face her, trying to keep my tone neutral. “Couldn’t sleep. Just tidying up.” The alcohol lingered on the air, and the chill from the open window sent a shiver down my feverish body. Suddenly, she leaned in, her voice soft, almost pleading. “Stay with me, Marcus.” She was so drunk she mistook me for him. Before I could react, she pressed her lips to mine, her taste sweet with the tang of champagne. Her hands fumbled at my shirt buttons with an urgency that betrayed her restraint. I recalled her friend’s derisive words echoing in my ears. “Like hiring a male model for a night.” ### Chapter 4 Humiliation and pain crashed over me like a tidal wave. Unable to hold back, I pushed her away. “If you wanted Marcus, you should have never agreed to marry me. Why put us both through this torment and resentment?” “I’m still a man, and no amount of love can take away my dignity.” Vanessa’s eyes cleared, now tinged with anger and something unreadable. I ignored her and resumed packing. She grabbed my wrist, her touch faltering when she felt my skin burning. “You’re running a fever? What kind of man are you, unable to even care for yourself?” When she tried to check my temperature, I recoiled. A click of her tongue, exasperated. “So you went looking for me. What did you hear?” It didn’t matter anymore. Everything came pouring out. “You think Marcus left the country because you married me? He left because he was afraid you’d make him donate his kidney!” “How dare you speak of him that way!” Vanessa grabbed a glass from the table and hurled it at me. I didn’t flinch, letting it shatter against my forehead. Shards fell to the floor, mingling with my blood. To her, I was like that glass—a vessel for her fury, disposable when shattered. Blood blurred my vision, but I thought I saw her hesitate, reaching out before pulling back, expression as cold as ever. “You wanted me home, and now I am. That’s all there is to it.” Her heels clicked as she walked away, fading into the night along with whatever remained of my heart. The next morning, after she sobered up, Vanessa sent her assistant to deliver birthday gifts for the twins. The packages sat untouched by the door. Noah scowled. “It’s not even my birthday anymore. What’s the point?” Ava, indignant, chimed in. “We used to want Mom to come home so she could be with Dad. But now, if Dad doesn’t want her, neither do we.” They were so young yet so careful, burdened with a maturity that broke my heart. “Dad, where will we go?” Ava’s tiny voice asked as I stroked her head. “To Grandma Eileen’s old home in Vermont,” I replied. The once-grand Westfield Estate had been sold long ago. The only place left was my grandmother’s house in the rural town. My mother had often begged Grandma Eileen to move to the city, but she always refused, too attached to her home. So we would spend our summers there, surrounded by the chirping of birds and the gentle murmur of a nearby stream. “There are no amusement parks or skyscrapers, but there’s the sound of birds and a little brook.” The twins wrapped their small arms around me, silencing the rest of my words. “With you, Dad, anywhere is perfect.” ### Chapter 5 Lately, Vanessa and I have both been busy. She’s been preparing for Marcus Delaney’s return, while I’ve been making plans to take the twins and leave. Vanessa was always the one in control, so if I wanted to leave, I had to prepare carefully. Even though Noah and Ava said they didn’t need their mother, the night before we were set to leave, I found them staring longingly at a photo of Vanessa. After hesitating, I dialed her number. When she answered, her voice was as cold and impatient as always. “What is it?” “The kids want to see you one last time. Will you come home?” Would she come back for a final goodbye? “Vanessa, if you’re too busy, I’ll head back overseas. I guess I wasn’t that important after all.” Marcus’s voice interrupted from the background. “Vanessa, if you’re busy, I’ll just head back. Seems like I’m not that important.” Vanessa’s tone shifted to reassurance. “You are important. He’s nothing.” The call ended abruptly. Even a final farewell was too much to ask when fate had run its course. The painting I gave her still hung by the bed, a reminder of the day she’d shed a single tear over it. I struck a match and set it aflame. The fire raced over the room’s flammable surfaces, spreading until it devoured the entire Wedding Manor. Our marriage, which began with that painting, ended with it. The flames roared behind me as I led the twins out, not looking back. Vanessa, I’m giving you the freedom you always wanted. The fire was fierce enough to turn anything, even memories, to ash. I took Noah and Ava to Grandma Eileen’s old home in the quiet tourist town where travelers often passed by. Since her passing, the house remained untouched, layered in dust. Wiping it away, I could almost see her smile, holding a watermelon in her lap, urging me to eat with a grin that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. I tried to live like Grandma Eileen did, with a peaceful simplicity, teaching the twins how to pull weeds and make the yard our own. I planned to turn this place into a small DIY craft shop, selling handmade items to the town’s visitors. The news reported a fire at The Carter Estate, with Vanessa Carter’s husband and their twins suspected dead in the blaze. As the flames swallowed the mansion whole, Vanessa was at The Magnolia Grand Hotel with Marcus. Marcus, back from abroad and not fully prepared, grinned slyly as he announced a run to the pharmacy for their night’s supplies. Vanessa knew exactly what he meant. ### Chapter 6 After Marcus left, Vanessa pressed her hand to her chest, testing her heartbeat. Oddly, there was no thrill, no rush. Her pulse was calm and steady. When Marcus returned and tried to pull her into a kiss, she instinctively pushed him away. “Sorry, something came up at work. I have to go.” She left quickly, not fully understanding why she felt that way. The truth was, on that night with Liam Westfield, she hadn’t been drunk enough to mistake him for Marcus. The alcohol had only dulled her inhibitions, making her crave his presence, wanting to be so close they were indistinguishable. The regret the next morning drove her to put the blame on him, knowing he would accept it as he always did. When Vanessa first heard about the fire, she was stunned. A flicker of remorse crept in, unbidden. She wondered if this might not have happened if she’d gone home that night. But she brushed the thought aside, convinced it was just another of Liam’s desperate ploys. The man had always been pitiful, willing to do anything to win her back. “What trick is he trying to pull now?” she muttered with disdain. Her doubts shattered when her assistant brought in items recovered from the scene. One was a charred wedding band—Liam’s. He treated it as sacred and never took it off. The other items were two half-burned gifts, the ones she had sent for the twins’ birthdays. Unopened, now ruined by flames. “The fire started in the bedroom, and it looks like he set it himself. The door was locked from the inside; no one could have escaped.” Vanessa’s legs wobbled. “You’re saying he chose not to escape, that he stayed inside with the children to die in our home?”
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