A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 241

Oh, the sheer, bitter irony of it all!

Holden Lockwood, the man who had driven her to the brink of despair and plotted her demise day after day, had built her a grave.

Winifred's eyes scanned the epitaph etched into the stone:

*If you come back, please forgive me. Call me, just so I know my repentance wasn't in vain.*

*If you never return, please come for me. I want to be where you are.*

The massive black headstone gleamed. At the top sat a black-and-white photo of Holden; below it, his obsessive words.

She was utterly stunned.

What kind of sick twisted stunt was this? A headstone dedicated to Holden, planted right in front of her own burial mound.

Suddenly, the memory of seeing Iris and Yvette at the foot of the mountain flashed through her mind. It was glaringly obvious—Holden’s latest scheme was already in motion.

With Leland’s sudden defection messing with her state of mind, a sharp spike of panic gripped her. She decided to strike first.

Dropping the reins of her rented pony, she sprinted toward a corner of the garden where a pile of large rocks sat, a heavy iron sledgehammer resting right beside them.

Grabbing the heavy tool, she charged back.

*Crash! Smash! Crack!*

It took only a few furious swings to shatter the headstone.

Black marble fragments scattered across the ground. She swung again, bringing the hammer down on Holden’s photograph, completely obliterating his face until it was nothing but jagged debris.

Burt, the gravekeeper, came running over, screaming.

"The boss is on his way right now! What am I supposed to tell him when he sees you smashed his stone?!"

Winifred stood there, chest heaving, panting heavily.

She briefly debated whether she should smash the dirt mound as well, completely destroying whatever sick new plot Holden was hatching...

As she hesitated, a familiar voice drifted from behind her.

"Take the horse to somewhere with good grass and feed it."

Burt stammered nervously, "Boss, it's not that I wasn't watching the grave! I had just called you, and the second I turned my back..."

"I know."

The sound of hoofbeats faded into the distance.

The wind carried the distinct scent of his expensive cologne straight to her.

"If I told you that the mere thought of you makes me want to die, would you believe me?"

"If I told you that every time I think about my love for you, it hurts so much I cough up blood, would you believe me?"

"If I told you that for the past three years, I missed you so much that I..."

"That is enough!" Winifred marched two steps forward before spinning around, glaring at him with blazing fury.

But Holden’s face was completely earnest. Tears even welled in his striking eyes. "Winifred, don't hate me."

"You absolute monster!" she shrieked, her anger reaching a boiling point. She could only imagine what she looked like right now—teeth bared, screaming like a madwoman, her face twisted in rage.

She wasn't the type of woman to lose her temper or get into screaming matches. Being pushed to this point, feeling her face distort with fury, filled her with a deep sense of shame and exhaustion.

Holden looked at her with pure agony. "My only mistake was not believing you back then. I’ve spent three years repenting..."

"Get the hell out of my sight!"

*Splash.*

The tears suddenly broke free, two freezing trails streaming down to her lips.

To poke at her old scars, tear off the scabs, and expose her bleeding wounds all over again—it was too cruel!