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When Love Turns Cold, I Let Go Novel Cover

When Love Turns Cold, I Let Go

Brigitta traveled through time thrice, only for her love for Damien to end in bitter hatred. Each time, his mistress, Irene, died on their wedding day, leaving Brigitta to face Damien's brutal vengeance. After surviving decades of torture, physical ruin, and cold abandonment across three lifetimes, Brigitta wakes up three days before her fourth wedding. Refusing to suffer another tragic cycle, she tears off her gown and calls Irene with a simple message: the wedding is off.
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Chapter 3

After Damien left, Brigitta dragged herself out of bed.

She hadn’t slept well; her body felt heavy with exhaustion. Their supposed to be wedding was in two days and she needed to pack—because this time, she would be gone before it happened. She refused to make the same mistakes again.

Everything in the house reminded her of Damien, so she cleaned everything out, had it taken away and packed only a backpack for herself.

Once everything was done, she checked the time on her phone, grabbed her car keys and headed to the embassy to renew her visa.

While waiting in line, Brigitta pulled a baseball cap low over her brow to hide her wound.

Never again would she degrade herself for love.

She had every reason to hold her head high. The thought of Damien telling her to “live with her tail between her legs” last night only deepened her disgust at the way she had once loved him desperately.

To distract herself, she scrolled through her phone. The news and trending topics were flooded with headlines about her expedition team:

[BREAKING: The world’s top exploration team returns to unravel the mystery of The Thalasson Project.]

[Legendary Chief Expedition ‘X’ has come out of retirement. The next expedition will change the course of history.]

Even the foreigners in line beside her were talking about it.

“That insane expedition team closed public applications last night. My friend offered billions and still couldn’t get the last slot. Unbelievable!”

“It’s and expedition for a Lost City Thalasson, a prehistoric super-civilization! If I got to go just once in my life, I’d die happy. And with Chief ‘X’ leading? That’s like getting a ticket to another planet!”

Their animated praise for the “Legendary Chief of Expedition” eased some of the tension in Brigitta's chest.

Then she heard the click of impatient heels on the floor. She looked up—and froze. It was Damien and Irene!

Why were those two in the embassy? Brigitta mused to herself. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips, she was hoping those two wouldn’t notice her.

“Damien, I don’t want to go to Elyria,” Irene pouted against his chest. “I want to join that expedition team. Everyone’s talking about it now! It must've been an awesome experience! Why can Brigitta go but I can’t? She stole my spot on purpose!”

“She didn’t steal your spot. Everyone has to apply on their own. We just had bad luck. I'll make it up to you. Wait here, I need to take a call.” Damien walked out to take the call, leaving Irene alone.

Brigitta was puzzled. This morning, he had been nothing but cruel to her. Now he was defending her?

Alas, Irene had already spotted her by then.

Brigitta instinctively lowered her cap, but too late—Irene was already walking over with a smile on her face.

“Ms. Holmund, are you following us all the way here? Why do you always turn up wherever we go?”

Brigitta’s smiled out of sarcasm. “You said it yourself—I got into the expedition. I’m here to renew my visa. What about you?”

“You—!”

Irene bit back her anger and smirked instead. “So what if you got in? Your man still sleeps in my bed. You’re just left with the scraps. Happy wedding, dear 'sister'.”

Brigitta clenched her fists: “You’re just as shameless as your mother!”

Irene’s eyes gleamed with vicious pride. “My mother built her own good life. And yours? Where is she?”

Brigitta’s anger flared and she raised her hand, ready to slap her.

But Irene moved first—grabbing her wrist and slamming her hand down on the binding machine beside them. She pressed the switch.

The screw-press crushed through Brigitta’s little finger.

Blood gushed out of the wound and those around her were so frightened they backed away to a safe distance.

The pain was excurciating. Brigitta bit down hard on her lip, clutching her hand as Irene let out a piercing scream.

Damien appeared in seconds. He saw Brigitta's bleeding little finger, his eyes momentarily filled with confusion. Just as he was about to approach Brigitta, Irene grabbed his arm.

“Damien, Ms. Holmund hit me, then ran her own hand into the machine… I can’t—oh God, I can’t look—” She faked weakness and limped against him.

Damien caught her immediately and swept her up in his arms without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Brigitta’s voice shook with pain. “Damien, Take me to a hospital! I can't feel my fingers!”

There was pleading in her tone.

Yet, Damien's eyes went cold upon hearing that. “You brought this on yourself. I told you not to touch her. If you weren’t bleeding, Irene wouldn’t have fainted!”

He added, “Even if you lose the finger, you deserve it.”

And with that, Damien strode out of the embassy with Irene in his arms then drove her to the nearest hospital.

Brigitta's head buzzed as she could only stand helplessly on her spot.

This was the first time she had ever begged Damien to help her—and he had turned away. That man had seen her blood and chosen to walk past her.

The pain in her hand blurred her vision. Just before she blacked out, she felt someone catch her.

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