Reborn: I Made My Best Friend Marry My Husband

Chapter 2

Adrian’s POV

“Sir, Mrs. Amara Williams is dead.”

The words hit me like a hammer to the chest. My assistant’s voice trembled slightly, as if he knew no human words could soften the blow. I felt my knees weaken. The world around me blurred, though nothing physically moved.

“What?!” I managed to gasp, my voice barely audible. “That can’t be true. What do you mean?”

“She’s gone, sir. Her husband and her best friend claim she committed suicide because she couldn’t fight her illness any longer.”

I froze. My heart thudded violently in my chest. No. No. Amara would never, ever do that. She was stubborn, fierce, and brave. That tiny spark in her eyes—the one that had always defied every obstacle—would never simply vanish. My stomach churned. My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, drawing tiny streams of blood.

“Something is wrong,” I said through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with anger I could barely control. “Get me everything about them—both of them—immediately.”

The assistant nodded and left, but I didn’t move. My living room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, the air heavy as if the room itself mourned with me. I found my gaze falling on the crystal glasses lined neatly on the table. Without realizing it, I had lifted one and smashed it against the floor. The shattering sound echoed through the room, but it did nothing to ease the unbearable ache in my chest.

Amara. My Amara.

I had loved her quietly for so long. Loved her in silence because she belonged to someone else. Loved her because even if she never saw me as more than a friend, her happiness was all that mattered to me. And now… now she was gone. My soul screamed at the injustice, at the cruelty of the world that had stolen her from me.

“What if… what if I hadn’t given her up? Would she still be alive?” I whispered, almost to myself. My heart ached with a painful mix of regret, guilt, and rage. The thought of her lying there—gone—while I had done nothing to protect her, twisted me inside out.

A few minutes later, my assistant returned, holding files and reports in his hands. He looked at me with that same cautious fear he always did whenever I was on the edge of losing control.

“Sir, Damian and Lily have been spending lavishly,” he said. “They’ve been seen together at hotels and expensive restaurants, even during her stay in the hospital. And yes… I think they’ve already planned the funeral. It’s tomorrow morning.”

I felt my blood run cold. Every muscle in my body tightened. My chest felt like it was being crushed, my vision narrowing to a single, sharp point: Damian and Lily. How could they? How could they betray her like this—using her illness as a shield while they stole everything she had? My hands trembled violently.

“Damian was already fired, right?” I asked, my voice low, dangerous. “Then how… how do they even have money?”

“Sir,” my assistant hesitated, “I think they were using her joint account. She must have trusted them completely… but it seems they only wanted her money all along.”

I slammed my hands on the table, rattling the papers. I wanted to scream, to break something bigger than a glass this time. My mind raced, imagining every moment Amara must have suffered, every tear she had shed in silence while they used her trust against her. Every memory of her laughter, her kindness, every time she had looked at me with warmth, now felt like salt on a fresh wound.

I couldn’t let this stand. Not her. Not the way they treated her even in death.

“Go to the burial site,” I barked at my assistant. “Replace every cheap item they’ve put with something expensive. Amara will not be buried with worthless things. Not while I’m breathing.”

He nodded silently and left, and I sank into the nearest chair, my head in my hands. My chest felt hollow. My thoughts tumbled in a chaotic storm. How had I not seen it? How had I been so blind, so helpless? All those years, silently loving her, silently watching over her, and now… she was gone.

The world outside seemed muted, gray, meaningless. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t breathe properly. I kept replaying her face in my mind—the soft curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes, the way she always tried to put others first, even when she was suffering. My chest tightened as tears stung my eyes. I had been there for so long, silently, secretly, yet in the moment she needed someone to fight for her… I had failed.

Night dragged on, endless and unforgiving. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her lying on the hospital bed, her face pale but serene, and then I saw the betrayal—the laughter of Lily and Damian echoing, cruel and cold, in the corners of my mind. I had to keep telling myself that maybe she wasn’t truly gone. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe she was still alive somewhere.

But morning came, cruel and unrelenting. I dressed quickly, my hands shaking, my heart thundering in my chest as I drove to the burial site. The city outside moved with a cruel indifference to my pain. People went about their lives, laughing, walking, living… and my Amara had been taken from me.

When I arrived, the scene was almost too much to bear. Her photographs lined the entrance, her radiant smile captured forever in a frozen moment. RIP, they said. Rest in peace. But I couldn’t accept it. Not her. Not like this.

I caught sight of Damian and Lily together, their heads close, whispering and laughing as if nothing had happened. My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat. How dare they… how dare they stand there, celebrating while she was gone. My blood boiled.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles cracked. I wanted to storm forward, scream at them, tear them apart with my own hands—but I couldn’t. Not here. Not yet. I turned, feeling the suffocating grief and rage pressing down on me, and stumbled back to my car.

Driving felt surreal. The world around me was a blur, a haze of colors and lights. My thoughts were a storm of pain, fury, and helplessness. And then… the inevitable happened.

BAM!

The car skidded violently, tearing through the ditch, my body jerking forward as metal crumpled. My mind went blank. Time slowed. My hands gripped the wheel as if it could anchor me to reality. But even in that moment, I couldn’t stop thinking about her Amara. My Amara. My heart screamed in agony.

And in that moment, one thought burned brighter than all the pain and fury:

I would find out the truth. I would make sure no one ever wronged her memory. No one. Not Damian. Not Lily. Not anyone.