Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 141: Not Me

Chapter 141: Not Me

Olivia's POV

With trembling fingers, I reached into the envelope and pulled out the last paper.

It was folded neatly, like someone had taken their time with it. But the moment I touched it, I felt sick. Like something was wrong. Like my soul already knew this would hurt.

This was supposed to be my reply.

But I never wrote a reply.

Still, I unfolded it.

My eyes scanned the

And suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn't me. I didn't write this.

But the words… the words felt like knives. Every sentence hurt more than the former. They were mean. Cold. Cruel.

I couldn't believe anyone would say these things to Lennox. Not even someone who hated him.

But this letter—whoever wrote it—pretended to be me.

In this letter, I didn't just reject him. I hurt him… I tormented him. The words were words that could kill anyone… they were words that hit Lennox in all the wrong places. It was perfectly crafted to hurt him… perfectly crafted to kill and destroy him.

Tears filled my eyes.

I read it again, even though it broke my heart.

My hand started to shake. My knees felt weak. The letter slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.

He didn't say

had carried

all these years, he thought it came from me. It could have been kinder if the person

killed my

sob slipped out before I could stop it. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hold in

poured out

I understood. Now I understood why Lennox became a monster to me, why he hated me… why he derived pleasure in causing me pain. All that was revenge—to get back at me for my supposed words.

he'd never want

I couldn't stop crying.

been ripped open, and now I was just bleeding all over

didn't just hurt me—it destroyed

I truly understood what

words, even though I knew deep down they didn't come from me… they still had my name on them. My handwriting. My necklace. My

enough to

to make him

Lennox, my vision blurry with

hurt him anymore. Like he'd already bled dry a long time ago. But I could feel it. I could feel his pain like it was

believed she wrote

slightly.

believed I said those things to

ever say something like that to

hard, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked at him,

was supposed to

If he really loved me like

clenched my jaw, blinking fast as tears

And he decided I was a monster

inwardly, shaking my head. He didn't even give me a chance. He just hated me. Hurt me.

All because of this?

trembling. It felt

didn't write it?" I said.

"It was her. That is her handwriting. And see what she

frowned, my pity and pain for him turning into anger. I wished I could just snap out of this act and tell him

I did this and won't believe until I provide evidence that

not guilty, I have to give proof. Proof that it wasn't me… that I never opened that box, that it got missing. I have to gather enough evidence so that when I tell him it wasn't me, he will have no