The Cursed Marriage No Looking Back

"Stay back!"

My voice ripped through the silence. I raised a trembling, blood-soaked hand. "You... you disgust me."

Andrew's leather shoes skidded to a halt.

"Leah! You're coughing up blood?" Kate shrieked, her terror pitched perfectly for an audience. "Andrew, save her! Hurry!"

She lunged forward as if to help—but her hands latched onto Andrew's arm instead, anchoring him in place. Her gaze flicked toward me, sharp and calculating, before snapping back to wounded innocence.

Tethered by her grip, Andrew's attention shifted. "Don't panic," he told her, voice tight. "Specialists are en route. Leah, hold on."

Hold on?

The family elders had warned me about the Heartbreak Curse. Lethal, yes, but not invincible. Two ways to break it: the caster's sincere repentance—or their blood relative's—acting as catalyst. Or the Antidote.

Would Kate Fox sincerely repent?

Would Andrew force his precious cousin to pay for my life?

The answer was standing right in front of me, clutching his arm.

My legs buckled. I slid down the mahogany table until I hit the floor. The carpet was plush and expensive, but it did nothing against the bone-deep chill ravaging my body.

"Andrew." I tilted my head back, forcing myself to look at him through the haze. Blood filled my mouth. "Don't bother waiting for your friends."

He stiffened.

A grim smile tugged at my lips. "I can undo this myself."

Under their stunned stares, my shaking hand fumbled into my jacket's inner pocket. My fingers found cold metal—a small silver box.

My grandmother had pressed it into my hand on my wedding day. A secret gift from an old mystic in the southern regions. Just in case, she'd whispered.

I'd thought she was being superstitious. But I loved her, so I kept it close. I never imagined the bad luck would be my husband.

I flipped the latch. Three jet-black pills sat inside, smooth and round, emitting a faint bitter fragrance.

"What is that?" Andrew's eyes narrowed.

"The Antidote."

I pinched one between my fingers and swallowed it without hesitation.

It dissolved instantly. Bitterness exploded on my tongue, followed by searing heat that rolled down my throat like molten lead. It crashed into my stomach, colliding with the icy venom of the curse.

"Argh!"

I curled into a ball, agony ripping through me. My organs felt roasted over open flame, then skewered with icicles.

"Leah!"

Panic finally cracked Andrew's mask. He stepped toward me.

"Andrew, wait!" Kate's nails dug into his suit. "What is she eating? You can't let her swallow random things! What if it ruins her body? We have to wait for the doctors!"

Caught in her trap, he hesitated. Stopped.

In those critical seconds, the war inside me reached its peak. The medicine's scorching heat hunted down the curse's cold energy, cornering it, devouring it.

Sweat drenched my clothes. My limbs turned to jelly, but the deadly knot in my stomach began to unravel.

I braced my hands against the floor, gasping. Every breath burned, but with each inhale, the fog lifted.

I raised my head.

They stood frozen, stiff and uncertain.

Slowly, I pushed myself up. My legs shook, but I locked my knees and straightened my spine. I would not cower.

"Looks like I won't die today." I wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. My voice was ice. "Sorry to disappoint."

Andrew's relief instantly hardened into defense. "Leah, what's that supposed to mean? If you had the Antidote, why not take it immediately? Why put on this show?"

"Put on a show?"

A laugh scraped out of my throat—dry, harsh, empty. "If I'd taken it earlier, how would I have witnessed such touching sibling devotion? How would I have learned that when forced to choose, Mr. Delgado soothes his frightened cousin before saving his dying wife?"

He opened his mouth, but I was already turning to Kate.

"Kate." My voice dropped soft. She flinched. "The Heartbreak Curse was no accident. We both know what happened today. Whether it was 'carelessness' or attempted murder... the truth is in your heart."

I smoothed my clothes, my posture shifting from victim to judge.

"For Andrew's sake, I won't call the police." I met his eyes. "But we are done."