He Stepped on My Ashes After I was Gone novel Chapter 2

We both knew who she meant. William’s expression turned blank, a trace of irritation flickering in his eyes.

“What could possibly be wrong? It’s just a silly stunt.”

“Are we inviting her to the wedding?”

William lowered his gaze, hiding whatever emotion lingered in his eyes. Then, out of nowhere, a malicious smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Of course we’ll invite her. She’s the guest of honor.”

It hit me then—William wanted me to witness his wedding. To see the moment I had once dreamed of but never had. We’d only gotten the marriage license, without the ceremony, because his mother never approved.

The wedding had become my unattainable wish.

But then, she died. A heart attack, they said. The night she passed, her last call had been to me. So naturally, William blamed me for her death.

At her funeral, he forced me to kneel by her grave for an entire day and night. The rain had been pouring down, and we’d stared at each other through the storm. His eyes were dead, filled with hate.

“Olivia Brown,” he had said, his voice cold and final. “From now on, it’s you or me. One of us has to go.”

From that moment on, I stopped being the woman he loved and became the woman he despised. He humiliated me, tormented me, and yet wouldn’t let me leave. He even brought women home, making sure I saw.

When my eyes reddened from holding back tears, he’d laugh and pat my cheek mockingly. “Does it hurt, Olivia? Well, you brought this on yourself. Who else can you blame?”

I tried to explain, but my words only seemed to fuel his anger. William was utterly convinced of my guilt. He couldn’t forgive me, not when he believed that the woman he had fought his family for, the woman he had loved so fiercely, was the reason his mother was gone.

Once Isabella Miller was gone, it was like William Miller suddenly remembered I existed.

In an act of misplaced generosity, he removed me from his blocked contacts, lazily drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he dialed my number.

For a while, I watched as the relaxed expression on his face slowly morphed into irritation. He slammed a hand against the wheel in frustration.

“Olivia Brown, ignoring my call? You must have a death wish.”

But what he didn’t realize was that it wasn’t me refusing to answer him. I couldn’t pick up the phone anymore.

Two weeks later, William finally returned to our home. He shoved the door open with force, bellowing, “Olivia Brown, get out here now!”

One door after another was thrown open, but there was no sign of me. His expression, already dark, grew even stormier.

While ordering his men to track me down, he muttered under his breath, “Olivia Brown, if you’ve run off, you’d better stay gone. Because when I catch you, I’ll break your legs.”

But the woman he wanted to punish so badly was standing right in front of him.

With the count finished, William kicked Christopher hard, sending him stumbling back. He barked orders at his men to search the house for me.

Christopher Moore was kicked to the ground, and for the first time, a flash of anger crossed his usually calm face.

"William Miller, Olivia is dead. You claimed her ashes yourself. Did you forget?"

"She’s been dead for days," he seethed, grabbing William Miller by the collar and shoving him against the wall.

William’s expression darkened as he sneered, "Even now, you're still trying to hide her? Christopher Moore, you're so pathetically in love with her. But here's the thing, I’ve already ruined her beyond repair. Maybe when I’m done with her, I’ll let you have a turn."

"Not now, though. She still needs to kneel at my mother’s grave and beg for forgiveness. She’s not yours to keep."

Christopher's face turned red with rage, his grip tightening on William's collar. He spat out through clenched teeth, "William Miller, you’re a goddamn bastard."

Without warning, he threw a punch that landed square on William’s jaw, causing him to grunt in pain.

In an instant, they were locked in a vicious brawl, exchanging punches and kicks.

I remember hearing that the dead don’t feel pain. But right now, something inside my chest was swelling, like I was about to burst apart.