After Her Fake Death, His Regret Turned Into Redemption

Dione didn’t bother wasting another word. She cast a cold, detached glance at Cedric before stepping into the bedroom and locking the door behind her.

Outside, Cedric’s gentle knocks broke the silence. His voice carried a soft plea tinged with guilt.

“Dione, if you’re upset, talk to me, okay? Don’t keep it all inside.”

“It’s my fault. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to spend with you properly.”

After a brief pause, he added, “How about this? The day after tomorrow, I’ll take you back to your hometown. You’ve been wanting to visit for so long.”

Hometown…

The word struck a chord in Dione, stirring memories she had buried deep. Yes, before leaving this world, she should return one last time. Her voice was calm and devoid of emotion as she replied, “Okay.”

For the next two days, Cedric stayed home with her, but his presence felt hollow. He was constantly glued to his phone, replying to messages or stepping out onto the balcony for calls, his mind clearly elsewhere.

On the morning of their departure, Dione woke to an empty bed. She searched the house, but Cedric was nowhere to be found.

Just as she reached for her phone to call him, a message from Ophelia arrived.

The image attached stole the breath from her lungs. Cedric lay asleep in Ophelia’s arms, his hand draped around her neck like a treasured ornament.

It was a sight that stabbed at Dione’s memories. Once upon a time, he had held her the same way, entwining their bodies in sleep as though she were his lifeline. But everything had changed when her illness worsened. Cedric worried about her fragile state, had begun sleeping at a careful distance, leaving a hollow space where his warmth used to be.

Before Dione could process the betrayal in the photo, another message came through: screenshots of their chats, dozens of them.

Piece by piece, the truth unfolded before her eyes. Each exchange painted a clearer picture of how Cedric had fallen into Ophelia’s web.

One particular message replayed in her mind like a haunting refrain. [Brother Cedric, please let me stay. I’m willing to do anything…]

The words were followed by a string of pitiful emojis, calculated to tug at his heartstrings.

At first, Cedric hadn’t replied. But Ophelia persisted, sending a heartfelt plea that spilled the misery of her past and the struggles she had faced since arriving in Cedar Ridge.

When no response came, Ophelia resorted to drastic measures. She sent Cedric a selfie taken in front of a mirror. In the photo, her body was bare, with only her hands modestly covering what was necessary. Her wide, innocent eyes gazed at the camera, dripping with a calculated mix of vulnerability and desperation.

[Brother Cedric, I’m still a virgin. Help me, and I’ll give myself to you…]

The silence didn’t last long. Cedric finally replied, his tone sharp yet wavering.

[Delete this right now. A girl should have self-respect!]

Ophelia’s response was swift, a crying emoji followed by a plea. She claimed she was at her wit’s end and didn’t know what else to do. If Cedric wouldn’t help her, she’d have no choice but to sell herself that very night. To seal her act, she attached a location pin.

The address? Cedar Ridge’s notorious red-light district.

Cedric, unable to ignore the urgency in her words, urged her not to make any rash decisions. Moments later, he left to find her, following the location she had sent.

From that moment on, their conversations grew more frequent, each one tinged with an intimacy that bordered on the forbidden.

Ophelia often peppered her messages with flirty emojis, kisses, hugs, and hearts. And Cedric, caught in her web, began responding with indulgent amusement, his restraint slowly eroding.

Judging by the timestamps, Dione realized that many times when Cedric claimed to be meeting clients, he was, in fact, with Ophelia.

As she read through the explicit chat logs, it felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding relentlessly against her chest. Each revelation stole the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping in agony.

Hot tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, splashing onto the glowing screen of her phone, blurring the damning words she could never unsee.

She didn’t bother reaching out to Cedric again. With her heart shattered beyond repair, she packed her things and booked a flight to her hometown, choosing solitude over confrontation.

When the plane landed, her phone lit up with a series of missed calls and apologetic texts from Cedric.

[I’m sorry, wife. Laurent needed me for something urgent, and I missed the flight.]

[I’ve booked the next one; I’ll be there soon!]

[Wife, rest at the hotel when you arrive. I’ll join you later to visit Mom and Dad.]

Dione stared at his messages with cold detachment. Without replying, she flagged down a taxi and directed the driver toward the cemetery in a nearby city.

When she was eighteen, her world shattered in an instant. Her parents had died in a devastating car accident, and the driver responsible vanished without a trace.

Desperation had driven her to knock on every relative’s door, borrowing money just to give her parents a proper burial. The weight of grief and debt hung over her like a dark cloud.

It was during that turbulent year that she met Cedric, a man who seemed, at the time, to be her beacon of hope.