Chapter 4 Bruce, We Are
Done
Corrine stepped through the doorway of what was once her shared sanctuary with Bruce. The emptiness of the room echoed her solitude–she alone would occupy these walls tonight.
Her gaze settled on the heart–shaped balloons adorning the walls, their cheerful shapes now a mockery of her pain. Without ceremony, she tore them down, their synthetic surfaces crinkling beneath her fingers.
The room’s festive decorations only amplified her growing resentment. With methodical precision, she dismantled every celebratory touch until her eyes found their photograph hanging on a wall.
She stood motionless before the captured moment of false happiness, watching as her pain crystallized into something harder, colder. The scissors moved through the photograph with quiet certainty, severing their
smiling faces into irreparable pieces.
After erasing every trace of their shared past, Corrine sank into the sofa’s embrace. Time stretched endlessly as darkness crept across the sky, her vigil unbroken from dusk until dawn. Just as drowsiness began to cloud her senses, the door’s opening shattered the silence.
This time, no eager footsteps carried her to greet him. She remained still, a statue carved from disappointment
and resolve.
Bruce entered with the confidence of the guiltless, dropping onto the nearest seat and massaging his temples
with weariness. “Get me a glass of water.”
A bitter laugh escaped Corrine’s lips. “Bruce, we’re done!”
Her words rang with the finality of a judge’s gavel.
His dark gaze fixed upon her, unreadable as a moonless night.
Corrine met his stare, sarcasm pulling at her lips like puppet strings. “Why that expression? Didn’t your decision crystallize the moment you abandoned me at the altar? Or perhaps it was settled the day Leah
returned to our shores?”
Bruce retrieved a cigarette with practiced grace, the flame of his lighter dancing briefly in the tension–filled air.
He drew deeply on the cigarette, exhaling words wrapped in smoke. “This is the best choice. You’ve misunderstood Leah for too long. Continuing this charade would only deepen her wounds.”
Corrine’s unflinching gaze dissected the stranger before her as she sneered, “I wonder, is there anything you
wouldn’t sacrifice at Leah’s altar?”
The cigarette died beneath his fingers as impatience flickered across his features. “For three years, I’ve tried to bury my feelings for Leah, but love refuses to bend to will. I hope you can find forgiveness and spare Leah your
anger. She bears no guilt in this.”
His words triggered a laugh that bordered on hysteria.
Three years of devotion lay behind them–years where she had poured herself into loving him, believing that persistence could thaw his frozen heart.
She had severed family ties, sacrificed her own dreams, all for the man who now dismissed their relationship with a cold “Love refuses to bend to will.”
Bruce observed her near–manic state, his frown deepening as an unexpected pain lanced through his chest. “There’s a million in this card. Enough to ensure a comfortable life back in the countryside.”
In his mind, three years of her life apparently equaled a simple monetary transaction.
He failed to comprehend that a million meant nothing to her.
“Bruce, I didn’t stay for anything but you. The Ashton family’s wealth and power meant nothing to me. I never craved the envied title of Mrs. Ashton!” Frost seemed to emanate from Corrine’s delicate features, her eyes
hardening with glacial resolve.
“Keep your apologies and your compensation. Remember this–there will never be reconciliation between us!” Her words hung in the air as she rose and strode toward the door.
Bruce watched her determined departure, feeling an invisible vice grip his heart, stealing his breath. His hand
reached out involuntarily, grasping at empty air.
