Chapter 8

Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

He returned to the estate. Everything was exactly as it had always been.

My books still lined the shelves. My favorite mug sat on the kitchen counter. The faint trace of my perfume lingered in their bedroom.

It was as if I had never left. As if the past twenty–four hours hadn’t shattered everything.

He sank onto the leather couch, his gaze locking onto the enormous wedding portrait that hung in the center of the living room.

The image had always been there, but tonight, for the first time, he really saw it.

The bride and groom stood side by side, facing each other, their hands entwined.

To an outsider, they looked like the perfect couple. But if one looked close–there was something else.

A quiet sorrow lingering in both of their eyes. I hadn’t understood it before. But now, I did.

The sadness in his gaze? It was because he had married a woman he believed he didn’t love.

In the beginning, we had treated each other like old friends. Polite. Respectful. But always with an invisible wall

‘between us.

Until that night.

That night when Atlas had come home reeking of whiskey, his composure undone, his defenses lowered.

voice raw as he murmured my name over

like a prayer.

Celeste.

Celeste.

Celeste.

pushed him away. Instead,

that quickly turned desperate. That night, something between us had snapped.

was no more

sheets, whispered names, and two hearts pressed so close together it was

22:33

Love, Seven

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Chapter 8

we had become what the world believed them to be–an inseparable couple.

and wife who belonged

convinced himself that what he felt for me was just

side, every time he looked at me and felt something tighten in his

guilt. Nothing more.

truth. Atlas clenched his jaw, his hands curling

intimacies we had shared, he had fallen in love with

he hadn’t

crinkling at the corners. The

face, pale with

open, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands trembled as he looked down at the medical report still clutched between

sharp, unbearable pain tore through his chest, unlike anything he had

don’t be sad,” a soft voice cooed from behind him. Slender

scent filling the air.

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