The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 14

  • Chapter 4

  • The rain came without warning.

  • Fat raindrops pelted Navier’s body, ice–cold and biting to the bone.

  • Her wounds were still raw. The rain soaked through her bandages, bringing waves of searing pain.

  • She tried to maneuver her wheelchair, desperate to leave, but there was no way to hail a ride on the

  • expressway.

  • Her fingers, frozen stiff from the cold, struggled to grip the wheels that kept slipping on the wet surface, nearly tipping over several times.

  • Finally, at a turn, the wheelchair lost balance and crashed to the ground.

  • Navier’s knees slammed against the cold cement, tearing open her wounds. Blood ran down her legs, mixing with rainwater to stain the ground red.

  • She bit down hard, fighting through the pain as she tried to get up, but her weakened body failed her again and again.

  • The rain fell harder. Her vision blurred until she couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears streaming down

  • her face.

  • She lay there, her body trembling, an overwhelming sense of humiliation clawing at her chest.

  • Lysander had abandoned her for a glimpse of someone with the faintest resemblance to Ophelia.

  • How had she ever convinced herself he might someday love her?

  • A bitter laugh escaped her lips, then turned to silent tears.

  • didn’t know how long she lay there.

  • herself up–inch by inch–until she was back in

  • wheelchair.

  • through, her wounds bleached white from the rain, the pain nearly numbing. Still, she gritted her teeth, inching

  • 21:50

  • O

  • Ruined Bride of Velvet

  • *11*

  • Chapter 4

  • hours later, she finally made it home.

  • her–a bruised, battered mess, soaked to the skin, barely able to sit

  • seemed not to notice their expressions. She simply said quietly,

  • clean bandages.”

  • didn’t return until that night.

  • his expression weary, but his eyes

  • sat on the sofa, glancing up at him. Her voice was eerily calm.

  • found her, but she wasn’t like Ophelia

  • did he ask

  • by that Ophelia–like silhouette. It was as if Navier’s

  • merely air.

  • he left early and returned late, spending every spare moment staring at -Ophelia’s photographs, lost

  • from a distance and felt absolutely nothing.

  • body was healing.

  • was her resolve.

  • she gathered everything she’d ever owned in this house–clothes, jewelry, perfumes–things she’d

  • them in

  • fire and threw the

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