Chapter 29
“Then tell me this,” Winter said, stepping forward. “Why did it have to be here p>
Beneath her feet, the cement still held the tiny footprints she had left when she was one year old.
Her parents had carried her in their arms and pressed her little feet into the wet concrete together.
She was home.
She fought hard to keep the tears from falling. “You know this is my home p>
Skyla could live here if she wanted. But not like this. Not with Chris buying the house and moving her in.
That hurt far more than if he had driven a knife straight into Winter’s heart himself.
Skyla reached into her pocket, took out a neatly folded handkerchief, and held it out to her. “Wipe your tears. It is cold p>
Winter didn’t move. She didn’t even glance at the handkerchief.
“Winter, let it go,” Skyla said softly. “This is no longer your home. From the moment your father sold it, it was meant to belong to someone else. Other people can live here. Why can’t it be me p>
The words felt painfully familiar. They came back like a blade, cutting straight into Winter’s chest.
A faint smile curved at Skyla’s lips, edged with quiet mockery. “Just like you said back then. I could not marry Chris because my legs were ruined. Since it could not be me, why couldn’t it be you? You understood that logic then. Why are you pressing so hard now p>
“So you finally cannot keep up the act anymore, can you?” Winter snapped.
She swatted the handkerchief out of Skyla’s hand. It fell to the ground.
The bodyguard stepped forward immediately. “Please leave immediately p>
“Get out of my way,” Winter said, her voice cold and resolute.
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The bodyguard’s tone hardened. “Mr. Xander made it clear. Anyone who trespasses here is to be removed. We have been polite only because you are Ms. Jasper’s friend. If you continue to insist, don’t blame us for taking action p>
As soon as he finished speaking, bodyguards hidden around the house moved at once. In moments, a dense ring of men surrounded Winter.
She recognized several familiar faces.
They were Chris’s bodyguards.
“Stand down,” Skyla said quietly.
Her tone was gentle, but it carried unmistakable authority.
At her words, none of them took another step forward.
Skyla adjusted her scarf and spoke calmly. “Winter, I don’t want to lay a hand on you. It’s late, so I won’t invite you in for tea p>
She then gave a small signal to the caregiver.
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The caregiver pushed the wheelchair into the house.
The moment Winter shifted her feet, the bodyguards stepped forward as well.
She lowered her head and looked at the tiny footprint beneath her shoe, the one she had left at one year old. A wave of humiliation surged through her.
At last, she turned and left.
She got into her car, started the engine, and drove at full speed back to Blackwood Manor.
“Ma’am,” Mrs. Young exclaimed when she saw her, hurrying over.
But when she noticed Winter’s reddened eyes, concern immediately crept in. “What happened to you p>
“Has Chris come back?” Winter asked.
Mrs. Young shook her head. “Mr. Xander seems to be on a business trip p>
Winter paused. So he hadn’t been back.
She quickened her pace upstairs, pushed open the door to Chris’s study, and walked straight to the desk. She pulled open the drawer, took out the divorce agreement, and tore it to pieces without hesitation before throwing it into the trash.
Chris wanted a divorce? Fine.
Originally, she had wanted nothing from him.
But now, she wanted that house.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.