His Love Bomb Comes with Betrayal

The shimmering diamonds and delicate lace on the wedding gown scraped against the wall with every movement, their brilliance dulled until all that remained was a lifeless shell.

I clenched my palms so hard that my nails dug into my skin, tears streaming numbly down my face only to be dried again and again by the suffocating warmth of the car heater.

Lex wasn’t coming out. He was too entangled in her, his passion relentless, leaving no space for shame or regret. Unable to bear another second, I stumbled out of the car. Snowflakes descended like a merciless storm, pelting me with icy fury. Yet no cold could rival the gaping void of anguish clawing at my chest.

I walked blindly through the snow-covered streets, my feet carrying me with no regard for direction. Hours passed—perhaps minutes; I couldn’t tell. Finally, I found myself standing before the villa Lex had built for me, a home that now felt like a stranger’s estate.

But not for long. Soon, it wouldn’t be mine anymore.

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over me and the ground rose to meet me. Before darkness claimed me entirely, I heard a man’s panicked shout behind me, sharp and desperate.

Then, silence.

Perhaps it was sheer defiance against seeing Lex again, but I fell into a fevered slumber for five days. When consciousness slowly returned, I could hear his voice cutting through the haze, thick with anger.

“What the hell are you doing? You're the best doctors in the city, right? Then why can’t you even wake a girl up? If you’re this useless, I better fire all of you and find someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Someone tell me—why hasn't my fiancée woken up yet?!"

The moment my eyes fluttered open, Lex rushed to my side as though the sight of me had pulled him back from the brink of madness.

“Tara!” he exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside the bed and wrapping his arms around me with the desperation of a man grasping at salvation. “Tara, you’re awake. Oh thank God, I thought I’d lost you. You scared me to death!”

His face was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot and the dark circles under them betrayed his sleepless nights.

As he leaned down to kiss me, I recalled the memory of him in the fitting room and a wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I shifted just enough to avoid him, feigning indifference.

His was baffled froze, hurt flickering across his features. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you hurt somewhere? Dizzy? Hard to breathe?”

I stared at him intensely. My voice cold and steady as I asked, “Where’s my wedding gown?”

A flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Look, baby,” he began, his tone soft, almost pleading, “an accident happened at the studio. Unfortunately, your gown got damaged. That’s why I kept you waiting so long, I was trying sorting it out.”

He reached for my hand, his voice laced with coaxing sweetness. “But don’t worry, I’ll just call the designer to make you a new one. Better than before. It’ll perfectly fits you. Just focus on getting better for now, alright?”

I wanted to tell him not to bother. After all, I had no intention of ever wearing that dress. But before I could speak, Phoebe barged into the room with a stack of papers in her hands. She stopped short when she saw me awake, a hint of annoyance flashing in her eyes before she plastered on a sweet smile.

“I'm glad to see you're awake, Miss Copeland,” she said to me, all fake sweetness, before turning to Lex. “Mr. Blackburn, I have some documents here that require your signature.”

Lex's face instantly darkened. “Phoebe, I assume you are aware that Tara will soon be my wife? If you do, then I want you to start addressing her by the right call from now on!” His voice grew sharper as he continued, “And why are you bringing all these documents here? Business should be handled at the office. You can't just waltz in and out of my private mansion like it's a theme park. Tara needs her rest. I don’t want to see you disturbing her again—understood?”

Phoebe’s eyes welled up, her voice quivering with contrived innocence. “I understand, Mr. Blackburn. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Watching the two of them was almost comical. The pretense of formality between them was laughable, given how intimately entangled their lives already were.

Phoebe fled the room, her steps deliberately hesitant, as if she needed to ensure Lex noticed her distress. True to form, his gaze followed her retreating figure, concern flickering in his eyes before he caught himself and turned back to me.

“Baby,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, “I’ll go handle this quickly and be right back, okay? Stay here and rest.”

Before I could respond, he strode out of the room, his urgency betraying his eagerness.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed, following him on silent feet. From the shadowed corner of the staircase, I watched as Lex caught up to Phoebe, pulling her into a secluded corner of the garden.

“How many times have I told you to stay away from Tara? Why don’t you ever listen?” he hissed, his frustration barely contained.

Phoebe pouted, turning her face away in a show of petulance.

Lex’s tone softened immediately, his voice tinged with a tenderness that turned my stomach. “What is it now? Don’t tell me you cry because I scolded you,” He reached out to touch her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin in a gesture far too intimate for my liking. “Come on, stop crying. You know I can’t stand it when you cry. Am I being too harsh?”

“You need to be good and listen for now. Go back first and I promise to give you whatever you want later, okay?”

Phoebe pouted, her lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “Then I want you to kiss me right here! If you kiss me, I’ll behave and leave.”

Lex hesitated, clearly torn between refusal and compliance. After a moment, his expression softened into one of indulgent helplessness. Cupping Phoebe’s face in his hands, he kissed her—starting with her eyes, trailing down to her nose and finally landing tenderly on her lips, the gesture both intimate and deliberate.

Tears burned down my cheeks as I watched from the shadows. The pain that I thought had dulled long ago stabbed at my heart anew. So this was what he meant when he claimed Phoebe was “just a physical outlet.” Lex had lied to me, lied to himself and buried himself in that delusion.

How could he not see that love and physical connection are inseparable? His body, his heart—everything about him was irredeemably tainted.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to retreat quietly back to the bedroom. My phone buzzed on the nightstand and the sight of a new message sent a chill through my veins.

Phoebe: [Miss Copeland, did you know that during the days you were unconscious, Mr. Blackburn and I were cuddling and kissing right beside your bed every day?

Sometimes, when he couldn’t resist anymore, he’d take me to the storage room next to your bedroom. The walls aren’t soundproof, you know. If you’d been awake, you might’ve heard some... rhythmic noises through the wall.

Oh, by the way, I don’t think the trash in the storage room has been taken out yet. If you’re feeling up to it, you should check it out. You might find a little surprise.]

A cold shiver clawed up my spine, but my feet moved on their own, carrying me toward the storage room.