
Faded by Love, Reborn for Love
Ladys · Completed · 8.1k Words
Introduction
I couldn't control myself anymore. I slapped Olivia across the face—hard. She had forced her sapphire necklace into my bag, then accused me of stealing it to pay for my dying dog's surgery. "You and that pathetic dog of yours—you both deserve to die," she whispered in my ear, her voice dripping with venom.
Before I could strike her again, a brutal force slammed into my stomach. Ethan kicked me. I crashed to the floor, gasping for air. "You're beyond saving," he spat, looking at me like I was garbage. He scooped Olivia into his arms, checking her face with infinite tenderness.
I lay on the cold hospital floor, gaunt and skeletal from late-stage leukemia, bleeding from my nose. My husband was cradling the woman who framed me, while my dog lay dead in the next room. "Stay home and think about what you've done," he commanded. He didn't know I would never go home again.
Chapter 1
My wedding was supposed to be in a month.
I'd spent every waking hour preparing for the ceremony, carefully managing every detail while dutifully caring for my boyfriend's mentally unstable mother. I'd imagined myself walking down the aisle, becoming his wife.
Until I overheard his conversation with friends.
"Ethan, didn't you say you had feelings for Olivia? How come you're suddenly marrying Emily?"
Ethan's response came casually, as if he were discussing the weather. "Olivia's girlfriend material. Emily's wife material."
"You know my situation at home. I'd never ask Olivia to deal with my mother's... episodes."
His friend laughed. "True. Your mom's condition has been getting worse. Remember when she accidentally hurt Emily last time?"
"If that had been Olivia, you would've lost your mind."
"So who do you actually like more—Olivia or Emily?"
Ethan leaned back, legs crossed, his tone dripping with contempt. "Olivia, obviously."
"She's gorgeous."
"Who wouldn't choose a knockout over some woman who spends her entire life shuttling between the kitchen and the bathroom?"
"Then why aren't you marrying her?"
"Liking someone doesn't mean you have to tie yourself down. It's about enjoying life."
His friend took a drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly. "Ethan, you're something else, man."
"That Emily is crazy about you, though."
"Remember when you were just starting your company? Barely had time to eat."
"She brought you lunch every single day. Made the rest of us jealous as hell."
"And when your mom beat her up that time, she didn't complain once. Just sat there feeding your mother like nothing happened."
Ethan sipped his drink, smirking. "Exactly. That's why she's perfect for marriage."
"Olivia's high-maintenance. Now that she's pregnant, she needs peace and quiet."
"Once Emily and I are married, someone will be running the household."
"Then I can take Olivia abroad for the birth. Maybe turn it into a honeymoon, make it up to her properly."
His friend whistled. "You really treat Olivia like royalty."
Ethan continued, "Raising kids is exhausting work."
"Besides, Emily's too... ordinary. I'm not passing down mediocre genes."
"I told her I don't want biological children. When the time comes, we'll 'adopt'—and she'll raise Olivia's baby instead."
"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant!"
Ethan's smile turned predatory. "Women? The more, the merrier."
"What, Ethan's already eyeing a third one?"
"Ha! I'm not telling."
Laughter erupted from the private room.
I slumped against the wall outside, sliding down onto the cold floor. My ears were ringing.
Ethan and I had been together for four years.
When we first met, he was nobody—just another struggling guy trying to make it.
His father was dead. His mother was mentally ill and violent.
But Ethan was determined. He swore he'd build something in Emerald City, make a name for himself.
During those early startup days, he worked himself to exhaustion.
I rented a cramped, roach-infested apartment near his office just so I could cook and clean for him.
The place reeked of mildew and garbage. I never let him visit.
I couldn't afford cabs, so I walked his meals over every day, rain or shine.
When I had spare time, I visited his mother at the care facility.
She had severe psychiatric issues. A terrible temper. She'd swing her cane at me without warning.
I was constantly covered in bruises.
Whenever Ethan saw them, he'd hold me close, whispering apologies and comfort.
I'd stroke his hair and smile. "It's okay. Things will get better."
Now things were better.
But I wouldn't be around to enjoy it.
I pulled the chemotherapy report from my purse, folding it over and over before tearing it into tiny pieces.
Ethan, I'm done loving you.
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