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Tugged the Wrong Heartstrings Novel Cover

Tugged the Wrong Heartstrings

After a decade of longing for Carter Worthington, Anya finds solace in his stepbrother, Eli Loxley. Their romance peaks with a lavish proposal on a private island, but the illusion shatters when Eli vanishes before their wedding. Anya discovers him boasting that his affection was merely a tool for revenge against Carter. Refusing to be a pawn, she discards her ring and flees Oakmont. Now, the man who manipulated her is the one begging for a second chance she refuses to give.
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Chapter 2

Main Story: Anya's POV

No one knew I had been to Oakmont. I returned quietly to the house Eli and I shared in Marrowfield.

Once inside, I gathered every gift he had ever given me—necklaces, watches, and even the Valentine's Day card he'd written by hand. One by one, I tore them apart.

My mind was empty, yet the tears came relentlessly.

I rose to my feet, dragging the custom-made white wedding gown from the closet and laying it out across the living room floor.

Without a second thought, I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through it.

After today, there was no turning back.

I packed up all the remnants of what I'd destroyed and shoved them into the attic.

Later that night, I picked up my phone and found myself scrolling through a young woman's social media account. She had been documenting her secret crush.

Her latest post pinned her location to Newstone, Oakmont.

The caption read, "My dream guy is getting married. I'm going to give it one last try before the wedding. Let's go!"

She had posted a picture of a man from behind.

The moment I saw it, I knew exactly who he was.

It was Eli.

Later that night, I got an unexpected voice message from Carter.

"Do you know where I am right now? Oakmont."

"Carter, I couldn't care less where you are. Don't reach out to me again."

Just as I was about to block him, another message came through.

"Anya, the Eli you've been searching for all over Marrowfield is now in Oakmont with his new lover. He only got close to you to get back at me.

"He's not worth it."

I clenched my jaw and called him back. "Tell me everything."

There was a long pause on his end. "I've stayed single all these years. I don't entertain flings. But you—"

I cut him off sharply. "Carter, this has nothing to do with you. My feelings for you are long gone."

He suddenly changed the subject. "I just took a photo."

Without warning, he hung up.

I opened the message.

In the photo, Eli's shirt was unbuttoned, a stark departure from his usual attire of glasses and a crisp white lab coat.

Under the streetlight, a young woman clung to his arm, whispering in his ear.

He was smiling, his hand gently brushing through her hair.

I clicked on her Instagram profile. The latest post was a picture of them together, with her boldly kissing his cheek.

The caption read, "Our first date. This is just the beginning."

The trust I had clung to for three years shattered in an instant.

Caught between laughter and tears, I collapsed onto the bed, memories of our first anniversary flooding through my mind.

That morning, I had woken up to my favorite flowers on the bedside table. Every bloom came with a note, each one a confession of Eli's love.

When he saw me stir, he leaned in close, gently coaxing me to get up.

Looking back now, it felt like a memory belonging to someone else.

A piercing headache gripped my mind. My body went cold, and my vision blurred. I struggled to hold on before everything faded to black.

Through the fog, I could've sworn I saw Eli rushing toward me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

Eli was slumped at my side. His white shirt was crumpled, exhaustion weighing him down.

His voice was rough, laced with reproach. "I leave for a few days, and you manage to land in the hospital with a 104℉ fever. Do you ever think about taking care of yourself?"

His face was etched with concern.

How ironic.

When he had disappeared, I was the one spiraling, convinced something had happened to him.

Even after a whole day of searching, I couldn't stop refreshing the news, dreading the moment I would see a report about some tragic accident.

I had neglected my own health, consumed by the fear of losing him.

But on the other side, he was outside another woman's apartment, kissing her goodbye.

"Do you realize your mistake now?" Eli asked. With a faint smile, he pulled a thermos from behind him and opened it. "Come on and drink some soup. I put a lot of effort into making it."

He said nothing else, his every gesture as affectionate as it had always been.

I sat across from him, silently observing as he took care of me.

But deep down, all I wanted was to demand the truth.

"Eli, I heard everything that night," I mused inwardly.

"I never forced you to marry me. After three years together, why don't you trust me?

"How can you look me in the eye and act like nothing ever happened?"

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