He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 25

The moment those words fell, tears pricked her eyes.

It wasn't out of grievance, but an overwhelming, acidic bitterness born from absolute absurdity.

She had nurtured his child, quitting every single habit that could harm the pregnancy, praying day and night for that new life.

Only to have him personally push her down the stairs. And now, armed with a few stalker photos, he had the audacity to claim the baby wasn't his!

The sheer absurdity of it all made explaining feel incredibly cheap.

Grant paused for a fraction of a second when he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.

It was so brief he barely noticed it, but something definitely twisted painfully in his chest.

It was the first time he had seen Sienna look so utterly shattered.

But that fleeting thought was suppressed in less than two seconds.

Grant released her wrist, taking a half-step back, his tone reverting to its usual frigid cruelty.

“What, did I strike a nerve? Feeling guilty?”

Sienna didn't answer him. She stood frozen in place, as if pinned down by his words, the warmth draining entirely from her fingertips.

She kept her head down, her loose hair falling forward to shadow her face.

Her damp eyelashes fluttered, looking like the fragile wings of a butterfly soaked by the rain, never to fly again.

She wanted to scream that the baby was gone, and that he was the one who killed it.

But what was the point?

Would he feel heartache? Would he regret it?

No, he wouldn't.

He would probably be relieved, thinking he finally shook off a burden so he could be with Lyla Lennox without an ounce of guilt.

“Grant?”

Lyla Lennox's voice drifted down from the second floor, the end of her sentence dragging with a sickly-sweet whine.

Grant snapped out of his daze, instinctively taking another step back to distance himself from Sienna.

Lyla descended the stairs in a silk nightgown, her hair perfectly styled and her makeup completely flawless.

She walked right up to him, naturally linking her arm through his. She batted her eyelashes, her voice soft and delicate.

“Grant, it's so dark upstairs... I'm scared to be alone.”

“Could you come keep me company?”

Grant murmured an immediate agreement, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her upstairs.

Sienna stood in the dark living room for a long, long time.

She rested a hand over her flat stomach, mourning the child that was already gone.

The tears finally slipped down her cheeks.

...

Back in the basement, she sat on her stiff, narrow bed.

Her phone screen lit up.

It was a message from Lucas: [Make sure to keep the bite mark perfectly dry.]

Sienna stared at the text for a long time before finally typing back a simple, “Okay.”

After steadying her emotions, she walked over to her easel, picked up a brush, and started painting.

In that moment, all the humiliation and agony evaporated from her mind.

Early the next morning, Helen knocked on her door, barking that Grant was taking her to the Gauthier family estate.

By the time Sienna got dressed and headed outside, Grant was already waiting by the car, looking incredibly impatient.

In the car, Grant scrolled through his phone, handling work emails, before finally breaking the silence: