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Mistakenly Devoted to Fleeting Years, Memories Hard to Let Go Novel Cover

Mistakenly Devoted to Fleeting Years, Memories Hard to Let Go

On her wedding anniversary, an orphaned wife uncovers devastating messages between her husband and his childhood sweetheart. The brutal truth is laid bare: her rescue from despair was merely a cruel game. While he funds his sweetheart's success, his wife quietly spends her savings on her own burial plot. When she finally slips away, the man who orchestrated her torment is left to face a devastating reality that completely breaks his mind.
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Chapter 8

Uninformed netizens and Hilary’s devoted fans swarmed the internet like vultures circling a carcass, flooding every platform with venomous insults. They demanded Millie issue a public apology, their outrage growing louder by the hour.

Without Millie’s unique status, her past would have already been dragged out and dissected by the public eye.

Amid the chaos, Millie remained as calm as a still lake. She simply switched off her phone, leaving the online uproar to burn out and went to bed without a second thought.

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she stirred awake, her senses returning slowly.

The bedroom was cloaked in darkness, but the faint silver glow of the moon seeped through the curtains. Through its light, she could make out the silhouette of someone seated by the floor-to-ceiling window, a quiet, brooding figure.

“Millie, just apologize to her and this will all blow over,” Elliot’s familiar voice broke the silence, low and measured. He stubbed out a cigarette with a practiced flick and stepped out of the shadows, moving closer to her.

Millie’s gaze met his, calm and courageous, as she lay still on the bed. “Aren’t you even curious to know why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Millie, the court doesn’t care why a criminal does what they do. If you’re wrong, you admit it. Simple as that.”

He perched on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing back a stray lock of her hair with an almost tender touch. “You went too far this time.”

Millie tilted her face into his palm, her expression soft, her movements deliberate, exuding a quiet dependence. Yet beneath the surface, her thoughts simmered.

Too far? Over a glass of juice?

She couldn’t help but scoff inwardly. If Hilary caused someone’s death, she wondered, would Elliot still take the same detached stance? Would he still insist on apologies and moving on?

“Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll apologize. Tomorrow, I’ll even cook for her as a goodwill gesture.”

Elliot blinked, clearly surprised by her sudden compliance. But he didn’t linger on it. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his tone warm and approving. “Good girl. You always know how to make things easier.”

The next morning, Millie rose with the first light of dawn. Instead of stepping into the kitchen, she called for a high-end restaurant to deliver an impeccable spread. By the time she finished plating the dishes, the faint click of the door unlocking reached her ears.

Peering through the doorway, Millie caught sight of Hilary, impeccably dressed and exuding confidence as she strolled inside as if she still owned the place.

“Apologies, Millie,” Hilary said breezy, making herself comfortable on the sofa. “I used to live here, you know. I didn’t expect Elliot to turn it into your marital home while I was abroad. The door lock’s password hasn’t changed, so I thought I’d let myself in.”

“No problem at all. If you’d like, you’re welcome to move back in. The room you used to stay in is still regularly cleaned. There are even some things of yours left behind. Feel free to look and see if there’s anything you need to clear out.”

Hilary arched a brow but said nothing, heading upstairs with the ease of someone who knew the house inside and out.

Opening the door to her old bedroom, she was greeted by a preserved time capsule of her past. The desk held a framed photo from years ago—a snapshot of her and Elliot in their youth.

In the picture, her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and she wore a bright smile as she stood beside Elliot, who had a cocky smirk and his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

Elliot had always loathed taking pictures, but she had nagged him endlessly during their middle school graduation until he reluctantly gave in. That single photo held a thousand memories.

“Elliot seems to cherish this photo,” Millie said, her voice breaking the silence.

Startled, Hilary turned to see Millie leaning casually against the doorframe, her gaze cool but not unkind. With a sweet smile, Hilary replied, “Some memories are simply irreplaceable.”

Millie’s lips curved into a faint, detached smile. “I won’t argue with that. So what?”

"If you step aside now, you can still save some dignity."

Unmoved, Millie stepped aside, giving her just enough space to leave the room. “Do you even love him, or is this all about keeping your family’s secrets under wraps? You know the truth. Your father broke the law and trying to hide behind the Hemsworth family’s power is beyond laughable.”

Hilary froze mid-stride, a soft chuckle slipping from her lips. “Loving him and securing my family’s interests aren’t mutually exclusive,” she said, her tone tinged with mockery. “But it’s not your place to preach. Instead of pointing fingers, maybe you should start planning how to squeeze the most out of Elliot when the divorce papers come. Otherwise, you might walk away with nothing.”

Before Millie could respond, the sound of the front door unlocking drifted upstairs. Hilary’s demeanor shifted instantly.

With practiced ease, she softened her expression, her steps light as she turned and clasped Millie’s hand in a show of warmth.

“Millie, don’t think too much about it,” Hilary said. I don’t blame you for anything. If anything, I was in the wrong back when we were kids. Bullying you was my mistake and I deserve the punishment.”

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