Begging for a Second Chance (Sienna Sloan and Jarred Sterling) novel Chapter 576

She unhurriedly closed the distance, lifting a hand to brush lightly over the wrist Jarred had just gripped, acting as if she were wiping away something filthy.

"Ms. Carlyle."

Sienna tilted her head slightly, staring directly into Celeste's pale, bloodless face.

"Since you're so passionately eager for him and me to reconcile, why don't you stand right in front of him and confess the entire truth about what happened back then?"

Celeste's wheelchair rolled backward half an inch, the tires crunching loudly against a stray pebble.

The color vanished completely from her lips.

She looked like a withered leaf caught in a vicious updraft, entirely stripped of her anchor.

Yet, facing Sienna's aggressive interrogation, she forcefully maintained her composure, holding Sienna's gaze without breaking.

Sienna smirked. "It's not that I refuse to forgive him. I told him a long time ago.

The supposed savior from his past is drowning in inconsistencies. It's highly unlikely that it was you.

But he couldn't let go of his imaginary debt to you, continuously misunderstanding and hurting me.

Simultaneously, he refused to sit down and uncover the actual truth, dragging out this exhausting limbo of half-truths.

He protected you while harassing me. Tell me, who on earth would feel secure building a life with a man like that?"

Those words completely obliterated Celeste's psychological defenses.

Her eyes darted involuntarily toward Jarred, who stood by with a deep scowl.

He was too calm today—so remarkably calm that it filled Celeste with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Panicking and desperate to flee, Celeste didn't dare stick around another second. She hastily threw out an excuse: "This is between you two. I'm staying out of it. I can't fix this."

With that, she spun her wheelchair around and scrambled away from the battlefield, fleeing as if she were being chased by the devil.

Sienna watched her retreating back, her eyes brimming with pure contempt.

The surroundings finally quieted down, leaving only the shifting shadows beneath the streetlights.

Jarred looked down at Sienna.

He flexed his hand, as if he hadn't yet processed the sudden emptiness between his fingers.

Then, he reached out, his fingers firmly gripping Sienna's chin. The hold was restrained but impossible to break, his eyes swirling with a dark, complicated frustration.

"Sienna, you are really bored, aren't you?"

His voice had dropped lower, shedding the earlier teasing tone, replaced by something that hovered dangerously between resignation and deep torment.

Sienna tilted her chin slightly, meeting his gaze without a hint of fear. "You've never actually had the courage to dig into the past, have you?

Does it feed your ego to watch her play the tragic victim every single day, just waiting for your pity?"

The ghost of a smile on Jarred's lips finally vanished.

He slowly withdrew his hand, sliding it back into his coat pocket before staring intently at her.

"You constantly pick fights with her precisely because you know she doesn't hold any real weight in my heart. So why do you even care?"

"Are you sure I shouldn't care?" Sienna fired back. "Are you absolutely certain she holds no weight?"

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