Chapter 9

The moment those words left his mouth, even Lorian himself was shocked.

He never imagined he’d torch his own wedding over news about Sylvia.

But with emotions boiling over, nothing else seemed to matter.

Ewan sighed deeply, knocking on the car window. As the glass lowered, he leaned in.

“Is revenge really all you feel for Sylvia? Lorian, you’re too close to see it, but what you feel for her stopped being about revenge a long time ago.”

“Think about it–the first time you blew off your friends because she called, how you completely lost it when she got sick, how you’re falling apart now that she’s in trouble–your feelings changed without you

even noticing.”

“Be honest with yourself–if Sylvia had shown up today wearing that dress you picked out, would you really have played those videos?”

“You’ve been using Jocelyn as a shield, trying to convince yourself you’re not falling for Sylvia. You might fool everyone else, but you can’t fool yourself.”

“As your friend, one last piece of advice: don’t let hate make you blind. Only your father knows what really happened back then. Just ask him directly.”

With that, Ewan stepped back, giving him room to leave.

Lorian floored it, the car shooting forward.

But the conversation bounced around his skull like a pinball.

the hard question–if Sylvia had shown up at the wedding, could he have really gone through with humiliating her?

always been there.

too consumed by hatred to see

to see clearly.

felt like betraying

to let himself

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Chapter 9

any real feelings.

follow rules or plans, and his

time he realized the truth, everything

light, he fired off dozens of messages to Sylvia. Pouring out years of suppressed feelings and confessing

after sending message after desperate message, all he

blocked him. Completely cut him out

contacted every rescue team he could find, desperately searching for any news

nothing came

rescue coordinator gently explained that Sylvia wasn’t

hadn’t been recovered.

prepare for the worst–to start planning Sylvia’s funeral.

like it was burning a hole

to hold, painful to put down.

returned to the empty house, pushing open

her had vanished without a

spent countless nights with Sylvia for six years–every corner once filled with her laughter

slumped on the edge of her bed, lighting one cigarette after another

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