Chapter: 33

*Ethan's indifferent eyes when his friends cornered me in the woods; *Celeste's laughter when her minions pulled my hair hard...

Leaning against the doorframe, I squeezed my eyes shut. The ugly darkness I'd kept caged for years rattled its chains.

Why was I always the one begging? What sick part of me kept letting them win?

Years of fury, humiliation, and swallowed pain erupted in a single breath. When my eyes snapped open, I gave a dark smirk at her.

"You're right," I said sweetly. "You're his dream woman. And yet..." I let my smirk sharpen as I went in for the kill. "For ten years, it was my bed he came to, not yours."

The effect was instantaneous. Celeste flinched like I'd slapped her-I considered doing that too, but my arms ached too damn much.

"The trick I played must have been a damn good one," I continued, enjoying the way she seemed to crystallize on my doorstep. "I must have fucked with his brain so good, he couldn't go a day without fucking me."

The look in her eyes-horror and disgust-didn't hold me back but stoked the darkness inside. I tilted my head. "Tell me, have you two even slept together yet?"

Her flawless porcelain features cracked. I smiled more evilly. "So that means you don't know about the adorable little birthmark on his left butt cheek. Or the way his voice breaks when he-"

"You bitch!" Celeste seethed, and I could almost imagine steam coming out of her ears.

I cocked my head. "What's wrong? Can't handle the truth? Ten years is a long time, Celeste. You'd be surprised what can happen in a decade

"Shut up, you vicious bitch!" She clapped her hands over her ears, tears spilling down her perfectly contoured cheeks. "How dare you?! You stole those ten years from us! This is all your fault!"

The way she sobbed-raw, ugly, childish-suddenly reminded me of her as a newborn. How she'd wailed until I rocked her to sleep in the nursery, her tiny fingers clutching mine. How I'd sneak her extra desserts when Mother wasn't looking. There was a time I'd have burned the world for her.

When did we become this? Knives drawn, aiming for the softest parts, not caring if the other bled out.

"Celeste-" My momentary triumph curdled into guilt. But she had spun on her heels, her ponytail whipping viciously behind her.

I bit back a groan as she stormed down my driveway in six-inch Manolos. In the mix of everything, it was easy to forget that Celeste, too, was a victim of what had happened between me and Kieran ten years ago.

But she just made it so damn hard to feel any lasting remorse towards her. Every single person thought she was a better match for Kieran and didn't hesitate to voice their opinions.

I'd accepted it all years ago. I'd kept my emotions locked away-until that night.

I might have done wrong once. But haven't ten years of silent suffering been penance enough? I gave him the divorce. I returned him to her. I had done everything to atone for my sins. Now, all I wanted was peace.

Was that too much?

With a tired exhale, I stepped back into the house and closed the door. I trudged back upstairs, my legs heavy and the bitter aftertaste of my words to Celeste rank in my mouth. Some battles weren't worth winning.

I sat at the edge of the bed but didn't lie back down. As tired as I was, I was no longer sleepy.

My gaze brushed over my laptop on my nightstand, and a tired smile pulled at my lips as I reached for it.

Sure, I might never measure up to Celeste. I may never have her effortless charisma or glamorous career, but despite the steady antagonism I faced, I had made something of myself.