When He Forgave, She Was Gone

Chapter 2

The next morning, the wedding preparations officially kicked into high gear.

Grace dragged Scarlett out to Willow Garden at the c***k of dawn, and the moment she arrived, the sight left her completely stunned.

White picket fences stretched across emerald lawns, and a quaint two-story villa stood flanked by vibrant hydrangeas and climbing roses. It was the spitting image of her dream home, down to the last decorative pillow on the porch swing.

Tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"Scarlett, I'll make all your dreams come true."

His promise still rang in her ears, clear as yesterday. And now here it stood, her perfect fantasy made real in every detail. But the gut-wrenching truth remained: Maxwell wasn't hers anymore. None of this belonged to her.

Why would he recreate her dream home for his wedding to another woman? The question burned in her chest like an open flame.

Before she could process it, Grace's voice cut sharply into her thoughts.

"This is our wedding home—Maxwell's and mine. Gorgeous, isn't it?"

She strutted forward, her lips curled in triumph.

"A frog dreaming of a swan? Keep dreaming. Maxwell and I are getting married, so drop your pathetic delusions. He'll always be mine."

Normally, Scarlett would have fired back instantly. Today, she bit her tongue until she tasted blood.

Unfazed, Grace barreled on. "Now listen carefully: Maxwell insists on handwritten invitations. White jasmine for the decor, freesias for my bouquet, and most importantly, a sunset ceremony. All his ideas. He—"

"Wait." Scarlett's heart lurched violently. "These are all Max's requests?"

Grace's palm cracked across her cheek before she could react. "Who gave you the right to call him that?"

Instead of fighting back, Scarlett grabbed Grace's shoulders, her eyes burning with desperate intensity. "Tell me. Is this true?"

Grace wrenched free with a sneer. "Why should I tell you anything? Maxwell's obsessed with perfecting every detail of our wedding. Whatever scheme you're plotting, Scarlett, it's pointless."

The answer was obvious anyway.

Scarlett's mind reeled as if a grenade had gone off inside her skull.

"It's him. It has to be him." The words tumbled from her lips in a breathless whisper as she spun toward the door. "Where is he? I need to find Maxwell right now."

Grace suddenly yelped and collapsed to the ground.

"Scarlett, what the hell are you doing?"

Maxwell appeared in the doorway, his eyes dark with fury. He stormed over and flung Scarlett aside as if she were nothing but garbage.

Her head hit the railing with a sickening thud, but she ignored the pain as she desperately scrambled up and seized his arm.

"White jasmines. Freesias. A sunset wedding because my sleepyhead would never make it out of bed that early." Tears streamed down her face, her voice shaking with raw emotion. "Maxwell, it's me. It's your Scarly. It's Scarlett. I'm your fiancée."

Their eyes met, and for a single heartbeat, time stood completely still. A flicker of something like recognition flashed in his gaze.

Then Grace tugged his sleeve, her voice thick with feigned concern. "Don't be angry with her, Maxwell. She's just hopelessly in love with you."

The moment shattered like glass. Maxwell's expression turned to ice as he violently shook Scarlett off.

"Love me?" His lip curled in disgust. "She's trash. A housekeeper's daughter with a gambling deadbeat for a father. What else could she possibly be but gutter scum?"

He scooped Grace into his arms and marched inside, leaving Scarlett broken on the ground. The cruelty of his words snapped her back to reality like a slap.

This wasn't her Maxwell. Not anymore.

Once again, she'd fooled herself. She'd tried everything before, even showing up naked and slipping into his bed, praying their intimacy would spark his memory. That night, he'd taken her with rough desperation, only to shove her away afterward with a sneer.

"Scarlett, even streetwalkers have more self-respect than you."

The same revulsion, the same contempt—it all burned in his eyes now.

She collapsed to the ground, completely empty inside.

From inside the villa, heated whispers and muffled moans soon reached her ears.

"Maxwell, it's daytime. And she's right outside."

"Let her hear." His voice was a low growl. "Let her know you're the only woman I'll ever want."

Their laughter, their teasing—each word stabbed deeper than the last.

Whether it was exhaustion or the memories crashing over her, she felt like she was drowning. Fragments of their past surfaced unbidden: their first night together after his proposal. He'd kissed her right there in the elevator, unable to wait until they reached the bedroom.

"Can't you control yourself?" she'd teased, laughing.

But he'd cradled her face in his hands, deadly serious. "Scarlett, you're the only woman who's ever made me lose control."

And now? Now he was losing control with someone else, right where she could hear every single sound.

She shook her head hard. No more dwelling. No more memories.

Weakly, she pushed herself up off the ground, only for the door to slam open. A bare-chested Maxwell stormed out and flung a fistful of bills at her feet.

"Grace isn't ready for kids yet, and we're out of condoms." His voice was flat, commanding. "Go buy twenty boxes. And make sure you get enough. We don't want to run out."

The door banged shut before she could even respond.

Staring at the scattered bills on the ground, Scarlett's face drained to a ghostly pale. With no other choice, she followed his command and returned twenty minutes later with twenty boxes.

Grace barely glanced at them before tossing them aside with a sneer.

"These aren't ultra-thin. They'll totally kill the mood." She pouted up at Maxwell. "Looks like she needs to make another trip."

"They are the ultra-thin kind," Scarlett said hollowly. "They're just... not his size. He needs the magnums."

Grace wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, the smell is disgusting. Get something else. Something scented."

After being sent back again and again, Scarlett finally returned with condoms that met Grace's approval.

Behind the closed door, the bed's rhythmic thuds and breathless cries crescendoed into something unmistakable. Each gasp and groan sliced through her like a serrated blade sawing through her ribs.

Left outside like a discarded prop, Scarlett finally understood the truth. Maybe this was karma. Her unforgivable sin was simply this: she had loved him, and she had refused to stop.

And in fifteen days, she would bury that shame right alongside herself.