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Love Carried My Life Through Its Twists Novel Cover

Love Carried My Life Through Its Twists

Falsely accused of harming Justin's grandmother right before their wedding, she is blackmailed by the groom himself. Despite knowing her innocence, Justin forces her into a humiliating hundred-day servant contract under threat of prison. To appease his terminally ill childhood sweetheart, he demands she play along with a sham marriage. Pushed to the brink of despair, she complies with his cruel performance, only to disappear three months later, leaving behind her own terminal cancer diagnosis and a devastated, weeping billionaire.
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Chapter 3

Justin smiled as he playfully tickled her, his expression open and relaxed in a way I had never seen before.

Before this, I had always believed that Justin Harlow was simply a man indifferent by nature—someone who neither understood love nor knew how to cherish a woman.

But now I realized I was wrong.

It was not that he couldn’t understand. It was just that he never wanted to understand me.

That was why pretending to be ignorant was simply the easiest, cheapest way for him.

As the last box of my luggage was carried away, Justin’s voice rang out, impatient and commanding.

"What are you still standing there for? Have someone clean the room right away. Rhea and I will be staying here tonight."

"Oh and she doesn’t like the pink decorations on the wall. Take them all down."

"Throw away the red ones, too and replace them with light blue."

Everything he dismissed so casually had been the result of my painstaking choices—made over countless sleepless nights—just a month before our wedding.

Black, white and gray had always felt too cold to me, yet he disliked vibrant colors.

So I had compromised, balancing between warmth and restraint, personally visiting store after store, comparing countless options to find the perfect pieces.

And now, all of it was headed straight for the trash.

A bitterness so heavy filled my chest that even breathing felt like scraping against my ribs.

I collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. Even during that month I spent caring for his grandmother, I hadn’t felt this bone-deep exhaustion.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes forever—not to see, not to hear, not to feel.

But reality never granted such luxuries.

At six in the afternoon, there was a sudden, urgent pounding on my door.

"I’ve sent you the list of Rhea’s dietary restrictions. Check your phone and make sure you don’t miss a single detail."

Upstairs, the other maids were busy setting up Rhea’s room.

Meanwhile, I stood alone in the kitchen, preparing dishes from eighteen different regions.

I had collected these recipes long ago.

Back then, my only thought was that Justin worked so tirelessly and his sole comfort should be coming home to a warm meal.

I wanted him to relax, to feel cared for through delicious food.

But before I could ever make that happen, everything had already changed.

Laughter floated in from the living room. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, a tablet in hand, browsing wedding supplies.

"This decoration is awful! Justin, when did your taste get so tacky?"

"I don’t want a dull, conventional wedding. I want something unique and modern. And the gown… the whiter, the better. Just like our relationship."

"Why did you have a plan ready so early? Were you planning to marry someone else before I came back?"

The dull, conventional wedding she scoffed at was actually the very plan I had spent half a year perfecting.

Justin’s smile faltered for just a moment and his eyes flicked instinctively toward the kitchen.

Then he touched his nose as he laughed lightly.

"How could that be? If you never came back, I’d spend the rest of my life waiting for my bride."

"Even if I reach seventy or eighty—until I’m buried—the only one by my side would still be you."

"Heh, you’re just trying to sweet-talk me."

He chuckled low in his throat.

"I can sweet-talk you in other ways, too. Want me to prove it right now?"

"Stop it, or I’ll get mad! Don’t kiss my neck—we’ve got a wedding photoshoot tomorrow."

"All right, all right. Then I’ll only kiss the places your wedding dress will cover. How about that?"

It felt as though invisible hands had gripped my heart, crushing it, then tearing it apart.

All I could hear after that were their footsteps, fading into the distance.

Eighteen dishes stood ready on the dining table, but the two of them remained in the bedroom.

The servants and I waited in silence all night.

By dawn, exhaustion overcame me and I dozed off—only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of a phone.

"What kind of photographer is this? I look terrible! Justin, does my face really look that big?"

"Find someone else. Leave them a bad review!"

His tone was indulgent, almost amused.

"All right, as you wish."

Then, switching to another call, his voice instantly turned cool.

"Starlene, head to the beach. I’ll give you one hour."

"Bring your cameras and everything you need."

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