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Half My Life Was the Price of His Love Novel Cover

Half My Life Was the Price of His Love

Melinda Dotson spent years painstakingly caring for a courtyard peach tree, believing its blossoms held the key to her marriage with her ailing fiancé, Horace Gilbert. But her devotion is met with cruel betrayal. She discovers Horace has been secretly poisoning the tree with quicklime to delay their union, dismissing her as a country bumpkin. With her mother dying and wishing to see her settled, Melinda refuses to wait any longer. If the tree will never bloom, she will find someone else to marry.
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Chapter 5

He took in the bright red of my bridal dress, and his face twisted.

"I kept asking how Lillian could fall sick out of nowhere. So it really was your witchcraft!"

I had no idea what he meant.

It was only piecing together Horace's wild, scrambled accusations that I understood any of it.

The peach blossoms at the Gilbert estate had bloomed for no reason.

And right on its heels, Lillian had taken to her bed, gravely ill.

Someone had said I'd used mountain witchcraft to force a marriage to Horace.

That I'd stolen Lillian's life-essence to make the peach tree flower.

"The Master said only the one who tied the knot can loosen it. To save Lillian, the curse has to be broken with your blood."

"Melinda, this is a sin of your own making, and you're going to pay for it!"

All those years, every time the vow at the mountain-spirit shrine came up, Horace had sneered at it.

Called me a superstitious peasant who'd say anything to marry him.

But the moment it touched Lillian, he was ready to believe anything, do anything.

I rubbed my wrist where his grip had left it red and aching, out of patience.

"I don't understand a word you're saying. And I'm about to be married. Whatever's going on with the two of you has nothing to do with me."

"Still won't admit it!"

Horace's eyes were red as he looked around the courtyard.

"Why else would you have everything laid out so neatly? You're forcing a wedding."

"Melinda, how can you be so shameless? You'd dream up a scheme that hurts people, just to marry me."

He wouldn't let me get a word out. Horace dragged me to the peach tree in the middle of the yard.

"I don't want to lay a hand on you. But if you keep on like this, don't blame me for what comes next!"

His grip caught the cut from before, and the pain brought tears streaming down my face.

I gritted my teeth and screamed at him, furious. "I didn't do anything!"

Lillian heard and came out of the bedroom.

She shot me one taunting look, then leaned softly into Horace's arms.

"Melinda, I know you've always wanted to marry Horace. But did you really have to come after me like this?"

"We had our quarrels before, sure, but that's all in the past. Why won't you let it go?"

The sight of her only made Horace ache for her more.

He pulled out a knife and held it up at me.

I couldn't stand it anymore, and slapped him across the face.

"Horace, eight years ago I gave up half my life to save yours. I sealed a life-and-death pact with you."

"And now you'd raise a hand to me over a few taunts from Lillian."

"You do this, and you're not afraid the heavens will strike you down?"

The blossoms fell from the tree, all of them at once.

Horace's eyes went red too, and he slashed open my wrist.

"What life-and-death pact? Lillian was the one who brought a famous doctor from overseas and saved me."

"I didn't want to hold any of it against you. But you just keep pushing, trying to kill her."

"Since you won't see sense, don't blame me for being heartless!"

"Last time I went easy on you for old times' sake. Not this time. I'm cutting down this wretched tree right now, and putting an end to whatever hope you've still got!"

With that, Horace raised the axe and swung it down hard.

Blood dripped onto the peach tree, and the petals scattered on the wind.

This tree, that had stood eight years in the Gilbert courtyard.

In that instant, it crashed to the ground.

The blossoms fell. The pact dissolved.

A violent pain tore out from somewhere inside me.

When I looked up again, the clear sunlight had been swallowed by black clouds.

The wind whipped the petals into a storm across the sky.

Horace, who had worn nothing but contempt, was staring fixed in my direction.

And in that instant, his face went deathly white.

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