Unable to convince his parents, Drew had come to my house to plead with my family instead.
Anne was the one who opened the door for him.
As soon as she spotted him, her tiny arms reached out, yearning for the comfort of his embrace. But Drew's face was hard, his expression carved from stone—there was no softness left for a child now.
He gently patted Anne's head, forcing a faint, awkward smile that didn't reach his eyes, and motioned for her to go play on her own. His voice was tight, tinged with frustration and exhaustion.
"Go on, Anne. Play with your toys," he said softly but firmly.
Anne's face crumpled, tears welling as she reluctantly withdrew into the living room, her sobs muffled by the door closing behind her.
Inside, the house was no longer the sanctuary I remembered. The living room was a chaotic mess—discarded belongings scattered like wreckage after a storm. Clothes, books, even fragile trinkets lay strewn across the floor, forgotten and abandoned.
Amidst the ruin, Drew's gaze landed on the moonsilk curtains I had painstakingly chosen. They were crumpled and tossed aside like garbage.
His breath hitched. Those curtains had been my quiet rebellion—my small attempt to bring beauty to a place that never felt like home.
His voice cut sharply through the heavy silence.
"Who told you to touch Sienna's things?" he demanded, his tone razor-edged, laced with disbelief and anger.
Anne's startled cries shattered the moment. Tears spilled freely as she sobbed, clutching at Jake, who had just walked in.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Drew?" Jake snapped, lifting Anne into his arms and soothing her trembling shoulders. His voice was low but steady, trying to anchor the swirling tension in the room.
Louisa, the maid who had been nearby, looked cornered and defensive.
"Miss Laura ordered me to throw them out," she said, her voice tinged with resentment and fear.
Drew's face tightened into a grim mask. His jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might crack. Without a word, he stormed toward Laura's room, the weight of his fury pressing down on every step like a heavy chain.
Jake followed, Anne still cradled in his arms, his voice tense but cautious.
"It's just a curtain, Drew. Calm down. What are you planning to do to Laura?"
Drew ignored him completely.
He flung open Laura's door to find her standing in front of the mirror, draped in a wedding gown—my wedding gown.
The dress sparkled with tiny shards of moonstone, but it hung awkwardly on her frame. The seam at the back had split wide open, exposing torn fabric and raw edges.
Seeing it there, on Laura, felt like a knife twisting deep into Drew's chest.
"Why are you wearing her dress?" he growled, his voice low and thunderous, as if the question alone carried the weight of betrayal.
Laura smiled, unnervingly calm, her eyes glittering with false innocence.
"Sienna's not coming back, is she? It's a shame to waste it. Can't I just wear it three days from now?"
Drew's eyes blazed with fury so fierce it almost scared me to imagine it.
"Take it off. Now. That dress belongs to Sienna—not you!"
Laura shrieked, stepping back, crossing her arms over her chest like a shield, her voice rising with a mix of hurt and defiance.
"Jake, help me! He's lost it!"
But this time, Jake didn't rush to her defense.
He stared at the torn gown and said quietly, his voice hoarse with disbelief and something darker—maybe regret—"Laura, that dress doesn't belong to you. Take it off."
Tears welled and spilled down Laura's cheeks as she backed into a corner. Her voice cracked, laden with desperation and anger.
"Why? Why can't I wear it? Sienna's gone... Why can't I be the one to marry Drew? Why not me?"
Drew's shock was palpable. His eyes searched hers, desperate for a trace of reason, but found only raw emotion and bitter envy.
"I've only ever loved Sienna. She's the one. My mate. Only hers," he said, voice breaking slightly under the weight of his own pain.
Laura's sobs broke into a bitter, bitter plea, each word dripping with venomous longing.
"What does she have that I don't? Even your family prefers her over me! I should be the one standing beside you!"
Her voice dropped to a trembling whisper as she turned to Jake, eyes wide and pleading, searching for an ally in the room.
"Jake, don't you like me more? Wouldn't it be better if I married Drew instead of her?"
Jake said nothing. His gaze was vacant, like he'd retreated inside himself, unable or unwilling to respond to the chaos unraveling before him.
He never liked me, but he never imagined Laura would stoop this low—to try and steal Drew away with such desperation and cruelty.
"I won't allow it," Drew said, his voice suddenly cold as ice, void of the warmth it once held. "Take that dress off. Now."
The last of Laura's tears fell. With a howl of rage that echoed through the empty room, she grabbed the delicate fabric and tore the gown in half.
The once-beautiful dress crumpled in ruins at Drew's feet.
"I hate you!" she screamed, then fled the room, her sobs fading into the distance.
Drew didn't even look up.
He sank slowly to his knees, gathering the shredded pieces of my wedding gown into trembling hands—his chest tight with heartbreak and fury, the silence around him swelling heavy with everything left unsaid.
For a long moment, he sat there, clutching the torn fabric as if holding onto the last pieces of a shattered dream.