The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

His muttered “sorry” trailed behind him as he rushed away, the word falling hollow in the charged air. Corrine remained rooted in place, watching his retreating figure grow smaller. The pain in her chest intensified, as though someone were methodically carving out her heart with a dull blade.

A numbing chill crept upward from her feet, gradually claiming her entire body. The memories surfaced unbidden. When Bruce had assumed control of the failing Ashton family business, they had teetered on the precipice of bankruptcy. He had confessed his inability to provide her with a secure future then, but promised marriage once the company recovered.

She had clung to that promise, leveraging her own position and connections to elevate him from obscurity to prominence in the business world, all in hopes of hastening their union and earning her family’s blessing.

Now the truth emerged with cruel clarity—their three years together had meant nothing more than a business arrangement to him. In this facade of love, she alone had invested genuine emotion. Her years of devotion and sacrifice crumbled to dust in the shadow of his true priorities.

Though she fought to contain them, tears spilled down her cheeks as violent tremors wracked her body.

Rita observed Corrine’s distress with undisguised satisfaction.

“Corrine, did you truly believe my brother would have chosen someone like you—a simple country girl without education or background—if you hadn’t forced yourself into his life? Know your place and leave quietly!”

The words pierced like ice through Corrine’s chest.

“The Ashton family’s current success exists because of my efforts! Have you forgotten that?”

“Stop this nonsense!” Rita jabbed an accusatory finger toward her.

gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․com, where the best stories live

“You think yourself so important? The Ashtons would flourish with or without you!” Each word deepened the wound.

The wound in Corrine’s heart deepened. This, then, was how the Ashtons viewed her contribution.

Bruce’s mother, Tracy Ashton, rose with practiced grace, approaching Corrine with poorly concealed revulsion.

“Enough of this spectacle,” she declared, her eyes reflecting nothing but contempt.

“You’re not only humiliating yourself but threatening the Ashton family’s reputation!”

With that dismissal, Tracy turned to apologize and bid farewell to the departing guests, her social mask firmly in place.

Corrine watched the crowd disperse, her dream wedding transformed into a cruel farce.

Why had all her love and sacrifice earned nothing but rejection? Had she erred so grievously in loving someone incapable of returning her feelings?

Fresh tears fell as she closed her eyes, acceptance of her reality settling like lead in her stomach.

Thirty minutes later, Corrine wandered the empty streets like a ghost, purposeless and alone. It began to rain. The gentle drizzle soon transformed into a merciless downpour.

She spotted a distant bus stop—her only refuge from the rain. Barefoot, she broke into a run, but fate wasn’t finished with her yet. A sharp stone sliced into her sole, forcing her to limp the remaining distance.

The sudden blare of a car horn shattered the rain’s steady rhythm. As headlights bore down upon her, Corrine’s eyes widened in terror, her pupils trembling as death approached.

.

.

.