She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 1

It was already ten o'clock at night by the time the last of the mourners left.

Shera Jewell dragged her heavy footsteps back home, her eyes falling on the pair of shoes in the entryway.

Her husband, who had been completely unreachable for the past seven days, was back.

Her father's passing had been agonizingly sudden, unfolding over a mere three days, during which she had called Caden Hayes no less than fifty times—all of them vanishing into the void. From the hospital to the funeral home, and finally to the burial, she would have collapsed entirely if not for the help of a few close friends.

At this moment, the heavy scent of funeral lilies and cold wax still clung to Shera’s clothes, violently clashing with the crisp cedarwood home fragrance that filled the house.

Exhausted to her bones, she dropped her bag on the shoe cabinet, swapped her heels for slippers, and walked inside.

In the living room, Caden was leaning casually against the window, talking on the phone.

Shera stood in the hallway, staring blankly at him as his low, magnetic voice drifted over, a faint smile playing on his lips.

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; so his phone did connect after all—she had half-assumed he'd lost it.

Pushed to the absolute limits of her endurance, she couldn't even muster the energy to speak, let alone demand an explanation for his disappearance.

It didn't matter anymore.

She had only chosen to marry him for the medical resources he wielded, and now that her father was gone, none of it was of any use to her. This hollow, loveless marriage had dragged on for three years, and it had finally reached its end.

Right now, all she wanted was to go upstairs, take a hot shower, and sleep.

She lifted her foot to the stairs, but just as her heel hit the third step, a voice called out from behind.

"Where were you? Why are you back so late?"

The tone was laced with blame.

Shera had always been perfectly dutiful, never bothering with a vibrant social life, always heading straight home after work to revolve her entire existence around her husband and the kitchen.

Even when her father was hospitalized, she would rush back to have everything perfectly prepared before Caden got home from the office.

The neatly aligned slippers by the door, the impeccably ironed shirts in his closet, the lit incense and freshly brewed coffee waiting in his study before nine o'clock every night...

"I see," Shera replied weakly, trying to step around him to head upstairs.

Caden blocked her path, reaching out to lightly grip her shoulders. "Look, the second I finished taking care of things, I rushed back here non-stop."

Shera looked at him. "Am I supposed to thank you, then?"

Thank him for keeping Helga company for seven days, only to remember to come back and toss her a pitiful "non-stop" effort?

Seeing her attitude, Caden's brow twisted into a tight knot, his annoyance leaking through. "What is your problem today, being so passive-aggressive? I already explained it to you. What exactly are you so worked up about?"

Worked up? Shera suddenly wanted to laugh.

Her father had been gone for three days, a funeral was held, mourners had come and gone—such a massive event, and he hadn't caught wind of a single whisper.

Not to mention, the hospital her father had been staying at was owned by the Hayes Group.

Even if theirs was a private marriage, what about the assistant who handled everything for him day in and day out?